Batter & Curses
by Ace A
Summary: Wholly derivative premise, Batman! It seems Ukyo wasn't left behind by the Saotomes afterall, in this AU story.
1. Of Cowards & Oversized Spatulas

_Disclaimer: Ranma ain't mine, folks. All characters and settings used without permission. __Same goes for all the following chapters. Now that I've finished incriminating myself..._

**Prologue – Of Cowards & Oversized Spatulas**

A pair of six year olds sat in companionable silence, or rather as close to companionable silence two six year olds hungrily munching okonomiyaki can get, while their oh-so venerable fathers discussed a business transaction –or _sans_ cynicism– a family matter of great import.

"So your Ukyo wants to marry my Ranma?" asked one of the men. He wore a white bandanna and spectacles. Heavily built, he was possessed of a stoicism developed through many years of keeping a straight face, when questioned by disgruntled hotel owners and restaurant managers of his capacity to cover the bill. The man sighed. "Sorry to tell you this, but Ranma's already been promised." And to a fine fiancée at that, if what half of what his friend Soun said of his daughters was true. And of that there was no question. Tendo, his training partner of two decades and he trusted one another implicitly. Nothing would stand in the way of their mutual vow to unite the two schools of Anything Goes Martial Arts. Not while Genma Saotome drew breath.

"Ah, a pity," the equally burly man replied, "and here I was ready to throw in my yatai as a dowry."

"But aren't promises made to be broken?"

o-o-o

Genma Saotome was by no means an unfairly harsh man. He only wanted what was best for his boy. So, after presenting his son with a steaming pork okonomiyaki (Ranma's favourite), he asked Ranma whether he preferred the tasty dish on which he was happily chomping, or his little friend Ukyo. "Uhh," began the boy with some indecision before taking another bite, "okonomiyaki!" he cried, with certainty. Genma nodded. He would respect his son's decision.

o-o-o

"Come on, boy!" muttered Genma anxiously.

"Where we goin'?" asked Ranma as his father's muscular arms placed him on top of the yatai. Surreptitiously glancing about around, taking hold of the cart's handles, Genma answered,

"You and I are going on another training trip, boy. Say goodbye to your friend Ukyo." Nodding energetically, Ranma waved to his friend as he reappeared from the bushes on the side of the road, and called,

"Goodbye, Ucchan! See ya later!" He smiled broadly as Ucchan began dashing after them. "Hey, Pop," he yelled over his shoulder, "Ucchan is tryin' ta play catch-up!" Genma mumbled unintelligibly through the okonomiyaki in his mouth as he looked behind only to increase his pace at the sight of the pursuing child. Ranma laughed and kept waving, encouraging Ucchan and urging him to pick up his pace.

Genma relaxed a little as the child disappeared over the horizon. He looked ahead again... Only to skid to an abrupt halt. Just in time to avoid the ridiculously large spatula that imbedded itself noisily in the tarmac before him. The burly martial artist gulped back the rest of his okonomiyaki. It stuck in his throat as he beheld Ukyo's father in full battle garb. As imposing a figure he made in an adult version of little Ukyo's outfit, it wasn't he that made Genma balk. Rather, it was the half dozen similarly dressed muscular men, who stoodat either side of the okonomiyaki chef that concerned him. Sweat rolling down his brow, Genma laughed nervously, "Kuonji! Say, what brings you here?" He eyed the oversized cooking tool as the chef pulled it from it wedged position in the ground.

"Trying to renege on our deal, Saotome?" Kuonji growled accusingly. "I'll tell you now that this was one promise made to be kept."

Still laughing, and scratching the back of his head, Genma stuttered,

"W-why, of course, Kuonji! Whatever gave you that idea?" he asked as he stole a glance at the red-faced, puffing form of Ukyo making her way unsteadily to the yatai. He turned back to her father, whose grimace promised a most unpleasant end if he didn't quickly explain himself. "J-just speed and stamina training, Kuonji," he improvised. "Why, can't have my daughter-in- law too unfit to carry on the family school, after all, now can I?" Exhaling, Genma felt like patting himself on the back at his own cleverness. The chef's eyes narrowed as his daughter began climbing the cart to sit beside the younger Saotome.

Apparently convinced, he lowered his battle spatula. Genma mentally congratulated himself, and pondered how far outside the city he'd have to go to safely relieve himself of the burden of the girl. "After all," he continued confidently, "I'm responsible for her training now, aren't I?" Kuonji's grimace relaxed into a deep frown.

"Alright, Saotome. You've accepted the dowry, so I expect you to take good care of my daughter." Genma nodded enthusiastically, and readied the yatai cheerily saying,

"Right you are, Kuonji. Well, we'll be going," he was cut off as the chef flicked his wrist and levelled his weapon at his jugular. Genma paled. That combat spatula was sharp!

"However," Genma's eye twitched as Kuonji gestured towards his heavily built companions with the spatula, which was still very close to his throat, "the Kuonji's have family all over Japan. In fact, you'll rarely find a town the entire Orient without one practitioner of Martial Arts Okonomiyaki. Should you feel the need to 'speed train' my daughter again, I'm sure you'll always find a member of my extended family will be nearby to help supervise." Genma's eyes widened from a moment, but then his shoulders drooped.

"Of course," he grumbled, "that's very helpful of you Kuonji." With a resigned sigh, he began moving the cart at a more sedate pace, as Ukyo waved backed to her family, and was soon joined in by Ranma.

o-o-o

"What's 'fiancés'?" asked a puzzled Ranma. Giddily shaking her small legs off the side of the yatai, Ukyo rubbed her index fingers together and explained,

"Well, y'know that time I made my Dad's secret okonomiyaki sauce?" Ranma sweatdropped. "And you said that if it was good you'd promise to take care of me forever and ever?" Ranma acknowledged this with a high-pitched chuckle that carried the signature 'Saotome-Guilty Conscience" nervousness. "Well, 'fiancés' means that you promise to take care of me forever even if the sauce is bad!" She smiled. Ranma exhaled.

"Oh, well that's okay!" declared Ranma with relief. Ukyo nearly yelped with all the unrestrained glee of the six-year old she was.

"You, you mean it Ranchan? Really?" Cockily, he replied,

"Sure, Ucchan! I'll take care of you. You're the swellest guy I know." He paused for a moment, "and it don't matter how that sauce turns out!"

"But I'm sure it'll turn out great!" beamed back Ukyo.

"Eh-heh..." Ranma bigsweated.

o-o-o

"Where are you _going_?" hissed Ranma. Uyko frowned at Ranma. What was his problem? They'd gone to the baths lots of time together, but now she felt old enough to go over to the women's side alone instead of the men's side with Pops and Ranchan. "You're going to the girls' side!" he muttered through cupped hands.

"Well, of course, Ranchan. I am a girl after all."

"Nani?"

o-o-o

"Pops, you got sum s'plainin' to do!" Genma glanced up at the indignant eight-year old, from his relaxed position in the public bath. "What did you do to Ucchan?" he demanded. "How d'ya make him think he was a girl?" The master of the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts stared at his son dubiously.

"Sit down, Ranma my boy. I think you may be confused about some things."

o-o-o

Ukyo couldn't help but feel Ranchan's stare on her back, while she prepared a seafood special okonomiyaki on the grill. As she poured the mixture onto the griddle, she asked without turning, "What's the matter, Ranchan? You've been actin' strange all week." She tended the food and absently placed it in front of the customer, smiling sweetly, and turned to Ranma, glancing as she did, at Pop competently preparing a deluxe special. Neither he nor Ranma could match her exquisite touch, but nobody would complain. Her own customer seen to and Pops taking care of the other; she grabbed her fiancé by his ponytail and abruptly dragged him - howling indignantly - from the yatai with her. Sitting him down well away from their stall, she put her little hands on her hips and waited patiently. For five seconds. "Well?" Ranma pointedly stared at his feet.

"Is it true?" he mumbled, his high-pitched voice cracking. Exasperated, Ukyo asked what he was talking about. "Is it, is it true? I mean, are you really..."

"Yeah?" she prompted.

"Are you really...a girl?" She facefaulted... hard.

Twenty minutes later, Ranma was pale as a sheet, and Ukyo pale in the face from trying to get the facts through his thick skull. Downcast, Ranma asked, "So, how long?" Raising an eyebrow she asked puzzled,

"How long what?"

"How long've ya been a girl?"

"You... **jackass**!"

"Please, Ucchan, ya gotta tell me!" She answered by reaching for her spatula. The big one.

Twenty more minutes and a thorough spatula pummeling later, the young cookfelt confident that she had beaten the truth into Ranchan. He sat crouched, rubbing at the growing lump on his cranium, and looked up into Ukyo's turquoise-blue eyes with something akin to regret. "I'm really sorry for ya, Ucchan." Her cheek twitched. Very calmly (for an eight-year old), she bid,

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, yer a girl, ain't'cha? Ain't nothin' worse that could happen to a guy right?"

If Ranma Saotome had known better, he wouldn't have tempted Fate. But how was he to know that not only did Fate have an impeccable memory, but a rather sick sense of humour, too?

o-o-o

They hefted their packs, Ukyo having to shift the extra weight of her double battle spatulas. Smiling triumphantly as they crested the ridge, Genma turned to his two students of the Art and proudly declared "Well, boys. We've finally arrived. Welcome to Jusenkyo!"

"Huzzah." They simultaneously deadpanned. Genma frowned.

"Ingrates."

Fate had a sick sense of humour, indeed.


	2. Junctures At Jusenkyo

**Chapter 1 – Junctures At Jusenkyo**

"All this build-up," grumbled the heir to the Saotome School of Musabetsu Kakutou Ryuu, "and it ain't nothin' but a bunch'a dumb pools and bamboo poles." Shaking his head sadly, Genma complained

"Don't you know anything, boy? This is the legendary training ground! Some of the greatest ever practitioners of the Art have trained here." Ranma 'phfft' at that. Rolling her eyes, Ukyo added,

"I'm with Ranchan on this, Pops. I don't see _anything_ here to justify spelunking halfway across China with almost no food and only an illegible brochure for company." Genma stiffened and began lamenting,

"Ah, I have two ungrateful children under my wing!" His tone changed as he grumbled, "Will you two never drop that? Just because we took a little detour through a cave."

"For seven miles?" Yelled Ranma.

"Underground!" added Ukyo. She sniffed in disgust as Genma howled and expressed his grief audibly to himself, and to anybody within akilometre radius. "Wonder what's so special about this place anyway?" she asked no one in particular as they made their way down the hillside, nearing the springs. She spied a figure exiting a lone hut on another hill and making its way toward them. "Say, Ranchan, do you think he might know?" she asked her fiancé, indicating the man rushing down the hillside. Ranma shrugged noncommittally.

The man was approaching fast and was waving his arms, frantically gesturing at them. Neither of the men seemed or cared to notice the near- frenzied figure.Genma deftly leapt onto one of the high poles, gripping with his bare feet. He was followed by grinningRanma. After a brief verbal spar they went at it for real, lashing out at each other in midair. Ukyo turned her attention to the portly man who was nearly upon her, mumbling something in Chinese. "Sorry, what did you say?" she asked. The man reached her and began ominously, in thickly accented Japanese,

"Oh miss, you must make sirs come down from there. This cursed springs of Jusenkyo! Very tragic tales here miss, yes. Very bad you fall in spring!" The Guide's last word was punctuated with a orotund splash. Bonelessly, Ukyo turned around in time to see a giant panda swiftly break the water's rippling surface, and nimbly land on a bamboo pole.

Mouths agape, Ranma and Ukyo stuttered in stereo, "What the hell is that?" Always ready to enlighten, the Guide proffered up a sign and began recounting a tragic series of events that led to the creation of Shanmoaniichuan. "Listen, buddy," growled Ranma, "we never heard nothin' about no cursed sp-" he was abruptly backhanded by the seemingly unfazed panda, and landed with a stentorian scream in a nearby spring.

Had it a face, Fate's would have sported a decidedly evil grin right about then.

"Ranchan!" screamed Ukyo dashing to the spring's edge, dimly aware of the Guide prattling on about another 'too too tragic story'. There was no movement. She gasped in mortal relief as Ranma broke the surface, screaming obscenities inhis soprano voice. Soprano? Ukyo blinked and her eyes looked to Ranma's chest, and the nearly open gi top, as Ranma angrily left the pool. "Ranchan?" She asked shakily.

"Yeah, Ucchan?" Ranma's hand flew to the ruby red lips the martial artist now sported as the tone of the voice registered home. Seeing Ukyo motioning, Ranma's hands moved agonisingly slowly to the soaked gi vest, and parted it at the centre. She screamed, and Ukyo continued to blink dumbly at her fiancé, now seemingly, her fiancée.

o-o-o

First and foremost, before anything else, Ranma Saotome was a martial artist. And one of the most important tenets of the art was the unwavering discipline that allowed Ranma to remove herself form her state of shock, and into a dull detachment (rather _similar_ to shock, actually) long enough for the Guide's explanation to hit home. With morbid curiosity, she continued to stare down at her new assets. A girl. How? Why? How?

_Three excellent questions_, thought Fate. _Let's just say that Karma is of friend of mine._

Mechanically, Ranma looked up to Ukyo. UP to Ukyo? That was different. Ukyo's mouth opened but no words escaped. **Discipline. Self control.** Ranma turned her head looking over heroldest friend's shoulder. For some reason, the Guide was heating up a kettle of water. Her gaze continued to wander until it settled on the morose form of a soaked and dishevelled giant panda.A pair of glasses hung precariously from one of itears. Pop. Pop, who had dragged them to this damn ground in the first place. **Discipline. Self control.** Pop, whose fault it was that Ranma Saotome was now a little, busty girl. Her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me, miss customer," said the Guide looking up from his heating kettle and gaining Ukyo's attention, "You just hear something snap, no?"

"Huh?" answered the chef, coming back to herself. She looked up to see the small form of her fiancée moving very deliberately toward the fidgeting panda. Catching a glimpse of Ranma's expression, Ukyo noticed that her eyes were burning as red as her newly acquired hair. "This isn't going to be pretty."

o-o-o

"**_OYAJI!_**" murderously shrieked the redhead. She leapt for the panda, who growfed cowardly, and hopped up onto a pole, and was quickly bounding his way across the springs. "I'm gonna kill you!" screamed Ranma as she took off after him.

"Damnit," mutteredthechefleaping after their rapidly shrinking figures.

o-o-o

As bulky a man as Genma Saotome was, he did not lack for agility or dexterity. Quite the contrary. Which was why he was thankful that he was quickly able to adapt his abilities to his rather altered dynamics. This was a good thing. As much as he disliked this new black and white hide of his, he still longed to keep it attached to his person (panda?). And that look in Ranma's eyes as he approached him: that had made him shiver to the bone. 'If the boy had had a katana, there would have been no telling them apart', thought Genma with a shudder.

"Come _back_ here, you stupid old man!" shrieked his no longer especially manly son. 'The voice's the same, too', quivered the Saotome patriarch, picking up the pace.

"Stop runnin' and I promise I'll make it quick!"

Somehow, Genma doubted that.

o-o-o

The travel-worn wanderer shifted his backpack tiredly, patting some dust from his navy shirt, as he surveyed the springs before him. "Is this...Jusenkyo?" he wondered aloud.

o-o-o

Those jerks, thought Ukyo. 'What was Ranchan thinking?' She pondered as she leapt the twenty feet to the next pole, keeping the raging redhead in sight. Running off like that...She supposed she couldn't blame him for being mad. And Pops; it was all his fault for bringing them here. As much as the idea of selling a panda hide on the black market for some much-needed cash appealed to her right then, she realised that she had to stop Ranma before he did something rash.

She observed the panda springing from the poles to a nearby outcropping of rock. Ukyo shifted direction in mid-air to compensate for the change in direction. As she neared, she spied a backpack-sporting figure, staring off into the distance. From the way Pops was moving and Ranchan's bloodthirsty cries, they hadn't noticed him. As she approached the outcropping, her mouth opened wide. What was _**he**_ doing here?

o-o-o

Scowling at the unspectacular sight before him, Ryoga Hibiki mumbled to himself, "This can't be Jusenkyo. That's supposed to a really special martial arts training ground. This is just a," his martial arts viscera kicked in as instinctively leapt away, the spot where he had been standing now occupied by a semi-airborne giant panda. "A panda?" he mumbled cleverly. He gawked in amazement as it sprung away onto the bamboo poles dotted amongst the pools.

"Yaaaaah!" followed an increasingly loud cry. Ryoga curiously turned around and took a foot to the temple, as his head was used as a stepping-stone by some crazy, frenzied redhead. "Get back here!" she yelled as she pursued the escaping bamboo-muncher.

Twisting in midair, Ryoga righted himself so that he landed on the cliff's edge. His exhaled in short-lived relief, as the rock gave way beneath him, sending him plummeting towards the springs below. ...Only, he wasn't plummeting. Abruptly, with a violent jerk, he found himself yanked up onto solid ground. Coughing dust, he looked up with gratitude. His eyes widened at the sight of his rescuer's face.

"Ukyo-san!" he cried happily, rushing to embrace his saviour. He was met with a face full of spatula.

"No time for that, Sugar," chided Ukyo candidly. "We have to catch Ranchan before he kills Pops. Not that he doesn't deserve it," she added wryly. Ryoga's delirium turned instantly to rage.

"Ranma! Where is he?" growled the bandana wearing boy.

"This way, Sugar!" directed Ukyo, as she leapt onto a bamboo pole, advising him to becarefulnot to lose hisfooting. Ryoga followed, beingsure to keep Ukyo in sight.

Funny, he thought absently.That was the same direction the redhead and panda had run off in.

"Ryochan", questioned Ukyo, as they ran on a grassy area near the springs, "what are you _doing_ here?"

"I came to save you, of course!" he replied righteously. "When you didn't show up for our date, I just knew Ranma had done something horrible to you. I, ah 'questioned', one of the guys at school, and he said you and Ranma had gone to China. I never thought he'd sink so low as to abduct you!" Exasperated and sweaty, Ukyo shouted back,

"I waited three days for you to show up, jackass!"

Ryoga chortled shakily,

"Yeah, I heard something like that from one of the guys when I arrived on the...um, fourth day. If only I had arrived sooner," he moaned, his tone turning serious, "I could have stopped that damn Ranma from kidnapping you!" He stumbled as Ukyo, without breaking stride, slammed one of her twin spatulas into his face,

"I wasn't kidnapped, you dolt! Who told you that?" Scratching the back of his head, he murmured,

"Well, I just assumed..."

"What am I gonna do with you?" Ukyo sighed peevishly, unable to suppress a grin. It fled from her face as she heard the piteous whining growf of a despairing panda nearby. "Just over this ridge," she instructed Ryoga as they both leapt.

This was a very strange sight indeed, thought Ryoga. It was perhaps one of the strangest sights he'd seen since he stumbled into Chengdu, and realized he was in China, a few months ago. It probably wasn't THE strangest sight (that was still held by the guy in the speedo who ran out of that strip club in Shanghai, and promptly transformed into a twenty five-feet tall blushing winged minotaur and flew away into the sunset), but regardless, this remained a positively peculiar sight. A short, and quite pretty girl (who he quickly realised was thecrazy chickwho had clocked himearlier) had a very large panda backed up against a sheer cliffside, and was advancing. The large cornered animal resorted to... taking up a _battle stance_?

A kenpo-trained panda? Shanghai had a challenger.

Ryoga got a better look at the girl as she sprang at the panda. No, she wasn't pretty. She was stunning. Her azure eyes burned with passion, and her scarlet ponytail danced in the air as she flew with all the grace of a swan, her lithe body shifting in midair, as she fluidly dodged the panda's counterstroke. As she swiftly avoided another blow, he could see that her gi jacket was almost open, revealing a pair of exquisite... Ryoga twitched as he felt the onset of a very large nosebleed; potentially dangerous if the gi top opened fully as it was threatening to do.

He shook his head clear. What was he thinking? He was being unfaithful to Ukyo-san! Ukyo, who was so nice to him in school; who didn't tease him over his lousy sense of direction. He didn't deserve her! Ukyo, who always stood up for him against other students (not that it was necessary), and even against Ranma. Ukyo, who hadn't turned him down when he had finally summoned up the courage to ask her out on a date; who not fifteen minutes ago had saved him from a dangerous fall. Ukyo, who right now was raising her spatula behind the redhead...

o-o-o

Genma wasn't fairing very well. His son was in a berserker rage, and while usually this would give Genma the advantage, he simply wasn't accustomed enough to this new body to block and dodge all of Ranma's fury induced strikes indefinitely. Panting, he growfed in pain as his son landed a kick in his soft panda belly. Doubling over, he was briefly aware of someone approaching Ranma from behind...

o-o-o

"Gotcha, old man!" cheered Ranma triumphantly, as the panda doubled over. "Now the coup de grás!" she announced as she swept her leg high for a vicious axe-kick. Dimly, she realised that she hadn't connected, as a thud reverberated through her eardrums. 'No fair', she whined internally,as she met the grass.

o-o-o

Ranma woke to the sight of a disapproving scowl from her father.

Her...** father**! Not the panda! Relief washed over her, no, him. He'd never been happier to see his Pop's face (not that he'd ever actually been too happy to see his Pop's face, but that was beside the point). He was a man, and not some cursed little kid. He smirked as he reached for his chest to find... Oh no.

Ukyo rolled her eyes when Ranma sat up grabbing her breasts and began to scream. "We've already been through this, Ranchan," she grumbled wearily. Genma glowered,

"Stop this whining and be a man, boy!"

"That's easy for you to say, oyaji!" bawled Ranma, looking up angrily. "You're not the one stuck as a girl!"

"But you're not stuck," explained Ukyo, trying to gain her attention.

"How'd_you_ get rid of your curse, anyway?" demanded Ranma, ignoring Ukyo.

"He didn't, jackass," said Ukyo sharply, finally gaining Ranma's attention. With a thumb she pointed over shoulder, and continued, "The Guide explained that thisJusenkyocurse is reversible." With startling hopeilluminating her face, Ranma turned to the Guide,

"Really?" she whispered, pleadingly.

"Is true, sir," replied the Chinese man. "Young sir only need pour hot water on self to return to old form." He presented a steaming kettle to Ranma. Grinning broadly, she said,

"What're waitin' for? Pour away. I wanna be rid of this dumb body as soon as I can!" Nodding, the guide poured the hot water over the little redhead, whose form promptly grew and shifted into the familiar guise of Ranma Saotome. Staring with wonder at his again large hands,the pigtailed boyballed a fist, punching the air with an exultant victory cry.

"You very strange one, sir," commented the Guide with raised eyebrows. "Most customer not happy with this news." The martial artist looked confused. Why would anybody be unhappy to lift their curse?

"Ah, Ranchan?" began Ukyo, biting her lip, "What he means is that hot water changes you back to normal, but cold water..." Ranma didn't like where this was going.

"Yeah?" he prompted reluctantly. In answer, someone dumped a bucket of cold water on Pops. Ranma blinked when he realised that it was Ryoga! What in the hell was he doing here, hewondered for a moment, before the furry presence before him registered. His eyes widened in aversion, and he recoiled on the cot.

"Its not temporary?" he asked pointlessly. What had he done to deserve this?

Fate and Karma shared a mutual snicker.

"Cold water? It..." In answer, the panda shook his wet fur, thoroughly drenching Ranma. He looked down at his soaked gi with a sickening foreboding, and realised that it was once againher gi.

No! There had to be a way out of this! "You!" she demanded pointing at the Guide. "There's gotta be a way to cure this, right? I, mean, for good?" The uniformed man puffed on a pipe and nodded. Her heart leapt."What is it? Where is it?" she asked joyfully. The Guide used his pipe to indicate a large map on the wall. It was of Jusenkyo.

"Sirs," he said, pointing to a crudely drawn hut on the map. "We is here,"he then pointed at a large spring not too far from the hut, "and here is Naniichuan. Very tragic story of young man who drown there fifteen hundred year ago. Oh, very terrible legend, sir. Is very cursed..." he trailed off as he realised that his audience was now minus two cursed martial artists. His eyes opened in horror. "No sirs! Very, VERY bad you fall in spring!" he exclaimed. Ryoga, who had been staring at Ukyo staring at the Saotomes' dust trail, picked up on the Guide's distress.

"What do mean?"

"Jusenkyo magic very volatile, sir!" he said frantically. "It no stable for many months sir. If sirs jump into spring so soon, curse mix, and become permanent! Ooh, terrible sir!"

"What?" Ukyo gasped. "Oh god, Ranchan!" she took off after them, Ryoga in tow.

o-o-o

Heh heh, thought Ranma, near skipping as she saw the large pool before them that the Guide had identified as the Spring of Drowned Man. One quick dip here, and her horrible experience at Jusenkyo would soon become a distant memory.

Fate smirked.

Leaping for the spring with abandon, Ranma's gleeful cry was cut off as she was intercepted at the water's edge by a wooden sign, being wielded by her father. "What d'ya do that for, old man?" she demanded groggily. She looked at the sign Pops had somehow gotten hold of,

_Show some respect for your elders, boy!_ The sign flipped. _Let your **father **go first._ The panda made a dive for the spring, but was caught in midair bya foot and swung away by his own momentum. He landed heavily, fifteen feet away. Patting her hands together, Ranma smirked cockily at the unconscious panda and turned to the spring.

Ukyo's heart caught in her chest as Ranmareached the pool. She gulped noisily when Pops stopped him right at the edge. "Jeez, Pops, this is one time I'm thankful you can be such a greedy jerk," she mumbled to herself. She gasped as he jumped for the spring, only to be swung away by her irate fiancée. Ukyo didn't know which would be worse: some sort of weird hermaphrodite, or a Panda-Man. She was almost there when Ranma took a step into the spring. "No!" she cried, her long, braided hair sweeping behind her. She leapt and dragged the light redhead away with her, before her foot could touch the water's meniscus.

"What the!"demanded Ranma in disconcertment from beneath Ukyo, "What's the deal Ucchan? What are you doin'?"

"Ranchan, you can't go into the spring," puffed the chef, trying to keep Ranma pinned long enough to explain. She wasn't successful. Ranma was stronger than Ukyo, and apparently being a girl didn't change this. Ukyostruggled to maintain a grip on her fiancée.

"What'cha talkin' 'bout? Of course I'm goin' in! How else do you think I'm gonna get rid of this stupid body?" she said, indicating herself with her free hand.

Ryoga arrived in time to see Ukyo and the beatific redhead grappling on the ground. His eyes glazed over momentarily at the sight. Slapping his own face, he berated himself. 'Thatgirl is Ranma, you idiot! And you love Ukyo-san! Yeah, but just think of the two of the toget-. Stop that!' Ryoga roared inwardly. Wiping away a line of drool, he noted that the stunning, ravishing – that Ranma was holding Ukyo in a wristlock. Why, that vile, nubile Ranma! "I'll save you, Ukyo-san!" he promised, dashing towards the girls.

o-o-o

"Tell me you're notserious, Ucchan?" woefully moaned the redhead afterUkyo reiterated the Guide's explanation. "How long did he say I'd have to stay as...? This stupid body!" spat Ranma mournfully.

Worried that her friend was about to have a psychotic episode, the dark-haired girl reached for something... reassuring that she could use to calm the cursed girl...'Er... Puppies?'

'Perhaps something _pertinant_, moron,' she lambasted herself.

"I can see why you're upset, Ranchan, but why are you so mad about this?" queried Ukyo, hopefully. "Look at this in perspective. So you turn into a girl. Pops turns into an uberracoon!"

Groaning, Ranma repeated,

"'So you turn into a girl'. Well, I shouldn't _be_a girl! Hell, Ucchan, you see how you react when you get a gender-bending curse!" she replied hotly.

"Well, I don't think I'd react as badly as you have," shereplied honestly.Not even buuying it herself she added, "Seriously, I don't see why you're upset."

o-o-o

Fate downright belly-laughed as Ukyo turned to see Ryoga madly rushing towards them. Time slowed down, Ukyo heard Ryoga's battle cry,

"I'll save you Ukyo-san!" She felt Ranma pull away from her grip as Ryoga attempted to tackle the redhead, who adroitly jumped out of the way, to a safe distance as Ryoga ploughed past, leaving Ukyo balancing on her heels, at the pool's edge, arms flailing wildly.

Ranma stared in helpless fascination, as Ukyo waved her arms about, attempting to regain her balance. She was about to make a dash for the chef, when she noticed Ukyo almost imperceptibly regain her equilibrium, and settle at the water's edge. She gave Ranma a smile as they both sighed in relief. Ukyo began,

"Ha! For a moment there," when the earth unceremoniously gave way beneath her and she toppled backwards with a resounding splash.

Fate and Karma high-fived. Metaphorically, that is.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Yeah, you've seen it all before, I know. Just bear with it. :)

Apologies for giving Ukyo the predictable guy curse. Its a necessary evil, as this will be an essential plot device for later happenings.

Ace A


	3. Anything You Can Do

**Chapter 2 – Anything You Can Do...  
**  
'Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. She's going to **_kill_** me!' chanted Ranma, forcing herself to slowly inch closer to the pool. Her self- preservation instincts kicked in. She leapt backwards, missingan explosion of spray, as Ukyoerupted from the turbulent spring water, with a thunderous falsetto roar of fury. In truth, it was more of a falsetto shrill of fury, but the result was unchanged. Ranma cringed in dread on the grass as the okonomiyaki chef's soaked form stepped out of the spring. Ukyo locked eyes with the blubbering redhead. "Now Ucchan," pleaded Ranma giddily, as saidheadman took a step toward her and ominously unsheathed a battle spatula, "let's not do anything hasty... Ucchan? Ucchan!" Ranma's eyes suddenly lit up as a realisation dawned. "Ucchan, you're okay!" she exclaimed brightly.

"Huh?" faltered Ukyo, halting in the calculated death march towards Ranma's execution. "I'm...okay?" the chef questioned in a familiar high voice. A hand reached tentatively upwards andran acrossthe smooth, epicene cheek it found. The chef giggled. "Oh, Ranchan, you idiot," she gushed, relief effusing from every word, "you went to the wrong pool." She and Ranma shared a smile, as she used her free hand to pat at her dripping okonomiyaki garb. Her eyes widened as she brushed her chest.

"Ucchan?" questioned Ranma, as she tread closer to her suddenly frozen friend. Ukyo's eyes were as wide as saucers, and she was holding her breath. 'What was the matter' thought the redhead as examined her friend's stock still face. 'Its not as though she, hey since when has Ukyo green eyes? Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. She's going to...'

"I'm going to _KILL_ you!" 'Heh, I thought you didn't see what the problem was', thought Ranma sardonically, before she turned and bolted.

Ryoga's tackling her, successfully this time, ensured that she didn't get very far. "Not so fast, Ranma!" growled the Lost Boy, as he pinned her down. He raised a fist as she struggled beneath him... and stopped, transfixed. His eyes were still as he drank in the pulchritudinous visage before him. "K-kawaii," he breathed, moving his face closer to hers, the better to burn this beauty into his memory. He was rewarded with a mighty uppercut beneath the chin that sent him crashing into a nearby sprawled panda. Ryoga barely noticed.

"Damn you, Ryoga!" grumbled Ranma, as she sent him flying. His intervention had delayed her escape long enough for a very large cooking tool to nearly decapitate her. "Eep!" she yelled, as she rolled away from another swipe. "Calm down, Ucchan!" she squeaked out as the chef readied her, er, his, second spatula. Ranma gulped. She was in serious trouble if Ukyo switched to her twin spatula style. "I thought you said it wasn't a big deal!" she tried to reason, as she back flipped out of spatula-range. Seething, Ukyo snarled,

"Well, I guess I was wrong, wasn't I!" accentuating each syllable with a swipe.

'She'll take my head off if I try to take her down now', calculated Ranma, and she knows the Saotome Super-Secret Technique, so no help there. Desperate, Ranma fell back ona Saotome techiniqueshe realised was perfect for this situation.Fightng dirty.It was 'Anything-Goes' after all.

"I thought you said you'd be able to handle this better than me", she reminded the chef, knowing exactly which buttons to push, "Guess you're not up to it, huh?" That brought Ukyo up short. With a high-pitched growl, he sheathed one of the spatulas, and stood in place, taking deep, measured breaths.

"Damn you, Ranchan!" he cursed effeminately.

Finally, the Guide joined them.

"Oh, much relief miss!" he declared to Ukyo, when he saw the chef, spatula in hand, standing between the redhead and the spring. Nodding at the unconscious panda, he continued, "You save sirs from terrible tragedy, miss". He eyed her tense form, curiously, wondering why she was so wet. "Something matter, miss?" he asked when he noticed her eyeballing him.

"Well?" Ukyo clamoured. The Guide raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to start prattling on about another 'too too tragic story'?" demanded the chef, looking down at himself. Scratching his head, the portly man asked,

"Why would I do that?" in his thick accent. "And why honoured customer so wet?"Ukyo boggled but turned angrily when he heardsqueaky guffawing. Glaring daggers at his fiancée, he asked what was so goddamn funny. Ranma wheezed,

"Ha Ha! Your guy-side's a sissy! Hah Hah!

"Don't push me, jackass!" he warned with a girlish grumble.

o-o-o

Back in the Guide's hut, and back in their original genders/species, the cursed martial artists quizzed the uniformed man. "So how long do we gotta wait before we can use the other spring to cure ourselves?" asked the freshly male Ranma. Puffing thoughtfully, the Guide turned his full attention to the boy,

"It no for certain, sir," he answered succinctly. He took another puff, "Sirs must wait until at least half half year before using cursed spring, but even then could be terrible tragedy," he opined. "Best if sirs wait full half year."

"Six months?" Ranma moaned piteously. "I don't wanna wait here that long." Smacking the back of his son's head, Genma sneered,

"What did I tell you about whining? Quit acting like a girl, boy, and see this experience for what it is: training."

'Girl-boy?' repeated Ranma in his head. 'Is _that_ what I am now?' Ranma's eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on his father with a glower,

"And I suppose bein' stuck here for the next six months is goin' to be _great_ trainin'?"

"That it would, my boy," answered Genma, rubbing his chin, "but we won't be staying here long. We're heading back to Japan."

"What?" blurted Ranma. "You mean we're gonna haveta drag ourselves all the way back here in six months?" Disgusted with his son's attitude, Genma said,

"Make the most out of the experience, boy. Anyway, like I said, we're going back to Japan. We have engagements to keep!" More specifically, one engagement, and now considering Ukyo's 'semi-unique' predicament, perhaps two, reflected Genma in jocosity. "Hurry it up, boys," he said to his two charges, "we'll be leaving after dinner." He announced.

The Guide's eyes widened at that.

o-o-o

Ukyo smiled at the little girl, presumably the Guide's daughter, as she helped dab a moist cloth over Ryoga's brow. She returned to her father's side when Ryoga moaned from the cot. "Jeez," complained Ranma as he knelt beside the chef, "I didn't hit him that hard. And I don't figure Christopher Columbus here for suddenly havin' a glass jaw," he added, glancing at his slightly bruised knuckles.

"I don't understand either," admitted Ukyo. "He's a lot tougher than this," Suddenly, Ryoga's form thrashed on the cot, and he began mumbling incoherently.

"Oh Ran... No, I mustn't! Must be faithful!"

"What's he sayin'?" asked Ranma. Ukyo hushed him.

"No, I can't! You're so... Must be faithful... Ran...Well, if I must..." Ryoga quickly calmed on the mattress, a blissful smile slowly spreading across his face.

"What was that all about?" asked Ranma. Ukyo shook her head in puzzlement, failing to notice the thin trail of blood trickling form Ryoga's nostril.

o-o-o

They left Jusenkyo behind without much unhappiness, despite the knowledge that in less than a year, they'd eventually have to return for a cure. Well, not Ryoga. He'd been the only one of them save the Guide to come out unscathed. Ukyo sighed. If it hadn't been for Ranma being so damn impulsive, she would have too. No! She wouldn't dwell on it. Ranma hadn't mentioned it since they'd left the cursed valley.

He may have initiated this little contest, but she didn't plan to lose.

It was strange. Ranma had reacted so badly to the curse earlier, but now didn't seem at all flustered. Ukyo couldn't honestly claim that she didn't mind her curse, but wasn't about to advertise that when Ranma was taking everything so coolly. As the Guide explained to Ryoga and Genma that they were heading toward the village of Joketsuzoku, it began to rain.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" cursed a disgruntled redhead from beside Ukyo. The now male chef smiled crookedly. Denial was not just a river in Egypt. He turned to his petite fiancée, and drawled,

"You know that's now not very ladylike, Ranchan?" Ranma fumed.

"Well at least I'm_supposed_ to look like a girl this way. You look even more like a girl as a guy!" she smirked.

'Why, that rotten jackass! No, keep calm.'

"Ha, I think you're just saying that, Ranchan. Does this look girlish to you?" he said deepening his voice as much as he could, and opening his loose vest top to reveal hairless, but very male pectoral muscles. Ranma reacting liked she'd been splashed with a bucket of ice water.

Gotcha! smirkedthe chefas he grinned toothily.

'What? I mean? She? No way!' Thought Ranma aghast, as Ukyo, who had apparently gone without a t-shirt, bared his chest at her. Ranma stared woodenly at the sight. It seemed so odd. Surreal, even. Save her eye colour, Ukyoform appeared untouched whenthe curse took effect. (Even her voice remained nearly unchanged.) Yet, here before was quite stark evidence to the contrary. Ukyo's pecs, while not bulky, were compactly muscled.. Noting the angular shape, Ranma surmised that Ucchan's guy- form was a LOT stronger than it looked, and from the way the muscle rippled beneath the surface of the well-defined abs... What the? Ranma banished away that thought with alarming force.

'So it's a fight you want, huh? If that's how you want to play it', she thought evilly.

Ukyo shook with barely suppressed laughter at the expression that played across Ranma's face. First surprise, which graduated into astonishment; then embarrassment, and then, what the? Was Ranchan blushing? Ha Ha! Ukyo: One, Ranma: Zero, he scored.

Prematurely, as it happened.

Ranma stretched her slim arms, palms outward before her, and clasped her fingers together.She aimedher armsat the sky, in what would be considered the most scandalous possible yawn this side of a bordello. Her bosom projected before her, Ranma stared at Ukyo from beneath half-lidded eyes, and drawled coquettishly,

"Oh, I _dunno_, Ucchan. Does THIS look girlish to you?" Ukyo froze like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Blinking sensuously, Ranma gradually ran her hands down her sides, "Well, does it Uuu-chan?" she asked, licking her incisiors.She swept closer to the now hyperventilating chef. Ranma was almost in his face when she was suddenly swatted away and sent skyward by a large wooden sign. Their little exhibition hadn't been without an audience.

_Knock it off, boy!_ read the sign Genma held up to Ranma, who was grumbling at the panda. He turned to Ukyo, and the sign flipped. _Keep it up, boy!_ He pranced away.

The Guide seemingly took all of this in his stride.

Ryoga continued to leak blood and drool in blissful unconsciousness on the ground.

"Stupid panda," muttered Ranma irritably as she approached the unresponsive chef. "Earth to Ucchan," she called, bringing the Anything-GoesOkonomiyaki practitioner back to reality. Ukyo blinked at Ranma, who was grinning cockily at her. "Guess I win that one," she sniggered. "How's about I let you decide the terms of the next round to see if you can draw level?" she added loftily, sniggering once more at Ukyo's embarrassment. Ranma hefted her pack, and motioned behind Ukyo with a nod to the ground. "Now, who gets to carry Majellen, here?"

o-o-o

They set up camp half a day's travel from Joketsuzoku. The Guide sat on a large rock, blathering away about the (generally tragic) history of the area to Genma, who acknowledged with an occasional nod, as he sat about preparing an okonomiyaki on the small portable grill. If there was one thing to be thankful to old Kuonji for, he thought.

Ryoga leaned ponderously on one elbow, still a little shaky on his feet from the display that took place earlier. He noticed the love of his life approaching Ukyo – er, rather he noticed the love of his life being approached by Ranma. Yeah, that was it...

"Wanna spar, Ranchan?" Spying her father readying a kettle, Ranma turned back to Ukyo and nodded.

"Sure, Ucchan. Anything particular in mind?" she asked expectantly.

"Actually, yeah," he replied in his falsetto voice. "I was thinking that spatula-braid combination duel we practiced last week." Ranma considered this a moment and then nodded.

"Okay, just gimme a sec to get my hair ready," she asked as she readied the weights she would tie into her hair. "You know I don't like to wear a braid if I don't have to."

Karma rolled its metaphorical eyes at Fate's snigger._ This is getting cruel, you know._

"And don't hold back just 'cause my hair ain't as long as yours," added Ranma tying her braid.

_Come now! That was as innocuous as can be..._ Fate was silent. _You lousy SOB_.

_Heh heh._

"Ready?" At the redhead's affirmation, Ukyo hefted his second battle spatula and flung it spinning at Ranma, who deftly plucked from the air. Both assumed a similiarbattle stance. They stood, legs apart, knees slightly bent with the spatula held low to the left, its head pointing diagonally down and backwards, their right hands gripping the handles as though they were katanas. Despite their bizarre shape, they were used in a somewhat similar fashion. Had they held actual katanas, their free hands would have held the scabbard; instead, it was held loose from the body, elbow and wrist bent in a somewhat serpentine fashion.

Unlike his traditional family weapon, the enormous Great-Spatula (which Ukyo had used exclusively until she was eleven), Ukyo favoured two smaller twin battle-spatulas, each about four feet long with a flat head about a foot across. He supposed he had Pops to thank for that. It took more precision and skill rather than plain brute strength, to get true results from the weapons, but it was more than worth it. When she'd first used both spatulas in concert, wielding them akin to pair of herculean kamas, while utilising her leg skills to the best of her ability, Ukyo, knew she'd discovered her forte. But, he thought, this decidedly odd hybrid in which they were about to engage also had its pros, being fun paramount among them.

At some invisible signal they moved. Ukyo swung his spatula in an outward arc at Ranma's chest, while springing from the ground, his legs spread, arching around his base following the momentum of his attack. Ukyo marvelled at how quickly Ranma had adapted to her altered centre of gravity as she leaned backwards to avoid the slash and continued fluidly into a one armed back flip that dodged Ukyo's flailing feet, who landed swinging his neck smoothly, bringing about his waist length braid to swipe at Ranma's unprotected midsection while bringing up his spatula in a wicked in-stroke.

The redhead parried the incoming braid with her spatula, while fluently craning her own neck to bring her scarlet braid about to whip away and then around the spatula that was threatening to gut her. With a flowing turn, she yanked the spatula from the chef's grasp, which flew directly into Ranma's free hand. She looked Ukyo in the eye and grinned. Ukyo grinned right back, as he flicked his braid causing Ranma's grip to falter on her original spatula, flying smoothly from the girl's hand. Dodging a stab with a cartwheel, Ukyo caught the airborne spatula while parrying a kick with his braid, and righted himself, several feet away from his fiancée. Finding themselves in their original positions, they shared a wink. Wordlessly, they both smiled and launched at one another again.

o-o-o

Ryoga grimaced forlornly from his position on the grass. He had been avoiding speaking to Ukyo. Not because of the curse. Or, more specifically, not because of Ukyo's curse, at any rate. How could he face her? He didn't deserve to even speak to the lovely chef considering the thoughts he'd been having. Even right then, he was struggling mightily not to lapse into another scarlet-hued daydream. But how long could he resist, with the object of his desires right there in front of him? He raised his eyes at the sound of clashing metal to see Ukyo and Ranma were sparring. Ah, Ukyo! With her pretty face, and slim hands, and close proximity to a certain sex- kitten...

That was it! This was intolerable. He needed a few moments away from Ukyo and... Ranma, to clear his head.

o-o-o

Engrossed as they were in training, or in Genma's case, eating, none of the martial artists noticed the bandanna-wearing boy leaving their campsite and disappearing over a nearby natural incline in the surrounding area. The Guide spied his departure, but didn't see any need comment.

Twenty-five minutes later, the two teens relaxed and Ranma returned the borrowed spatula to its owner. "That was great, Ucchan," she said contentedly, undoing her braid, and removing the weight. "Still prefer my fists when it comes down to it, though." Ukyo sheathed his second spatula. "Wanna go hand to hand for a while?" suggested the redhead. Spying the darkening sky, Ukyo realised that it was already late in the evening. He indicated the moon with a look, and answered,

"It's getting a bit late, Ranchan. I think we should call it a day and get cleaned up." Advised the chef. After, a moment, Ranma assented with a nod.

"Pity we've got no water, though," she grumbled. Ukyo raised and single eyebrow, and suppressed a sinistergrin.

"Well, he said it was a bit muddy, but the Guide mentioned something about a small stream not far along ahead..." he trailed off.

"Great," replied Ranma, ready to follow his lead. He nodded with a smile, and made for the stream the Guide had mentioned.

A few minutes brisk walking later, the area turned earthy and wet. "Guess this is why we didn't camp further on," mentioned Ranma absently, as they trudged through the muck. She could hear the slight trickle of a small stream, which they soon reached. "Guess it's only a couple of feet deep," evaluated Ranma, as she knelt by the brook. In the dull twilight she could make out that the water's flow kept the creek from getting too dirty. With a happy sigh, she cupped a handful of water and splashed her face. She washed her hands, and splashed herself a couple of more times, before turning to Ukyo, asking if she was ready to go. The question died on her lips.

Two facts rather forcibly made themselves known to Ranma as she turned to Ukyo who was cleaning himself in the brook. One: Ukyo was wearing boxer shorts. She briefly wondered just when _exactly_ Ukyo had acquired boxer shorts, but this train of thought was cut off by the second glaringly blatant fact, which somewhat qualified the first: Ukyo was wearing boxer shorts, and ONLY boxer shorts. Crouched in the stream, and pouring water over his chest and shoulders, Ukyo nonchalantly raised an eyebrow the paled Ranma's way.

"What's the matter, Ranchan," asked Ukyo conversationally, "you finished already?" Ukyo's eyes followed Ranma's gaze to his shorts. "Oh, I see!" exclaimed Ukyo in mock realisation; "you show me yours..." he trailed off suggestively, blatantly eyeing Ranma's midsection.

Ranma, for her part, blinked once, and fled in terror, missing out on a madly cackling Ukyo laughing his transgendered ass off on in the stream.

Eventually, pulling himself together, Ukyo grinned mischievously. Well, she DID say that he could set the terms for Round Two. Can't wait for Round Three... he thought with anticipation, as he plucked his clothes from a dry rock and dressed heading back to the camp, giggling girlishly all the way.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Regarding the little sparring session the two have; I know half of what happens isn't really physically possible, nor is the fighting style a particularly workable one, but this is the Ranma-verse (and I liked the idea of it :) ).

In the prologue I mentioned that Ukyo was weighed down by her 'new' twin battle spatulas (even though I say she's been using them for five years in this chapter), take it to mean she started using heavier battle spatulas, as her strength improves.

Ace A


	4. Two For The Price Of One

**Chapter 3 – Two for the price of One**

'Where the hell was the campsite?' He was sure it was just over this hill. He cursed when he saw the stream below. That was new. Ryoga squinted in the twilight as he realised that there were figures by the stream. He focused intently on the smaller of the two. It was Ranma! Her sparkling eyes opened in... terror? This was confirmed as she ran shrieking from the brook, the other person's laughter following after.

Ryoga gasped as his eyes relayed what he saw to his brain. Some half naked guy has just accosted Ranma! He growled in stygian fury, fists clenched. Ranma's molester made to escape, but Ryoga wouldn't allow that monster to live. He stopped short in his dash, as he became aware of a sharp trident poking at his chest. His eyes moved rapidly to the slight forms of two armed girls, one of whom still had her prong levelled high at his chest, aimed at his Adam's apple. That one had green hair, the other, indigo. It was she, who spoke,

"You! You know fighting womans what train nearby?" She meant Ranma and Ukyo! Tentatively, he nodded. "Is good. You tell. Tomorrow is Amazon Womans Tournament in village. Outsider womans no come if know what good for them." She hefted her short staff. "You is understand?" Slowly, he nodded a second time. The green haired one, lowered her trident, humphing,

"You is not so stupid for man," she begrudged, as she nimbly stole after her partner. Ryogasoon realised that he was standing alone on the hilltop. And that Ranma's attacker was long gone. He made a vow to track that pervert down! But first, he had to find Ranma-san and Ukyo, and relay the feisty Amazons' warning. Without preamble, he ran off in the direction of Singapore.

o-o-o

Ranma practically dived for the kettle when she arrived back at camp.

Feeling much better, now that he was back in his original form, he waited patiently for Ucchan to return, which he soon did by way of skipping merrily into the camp. Genma's eyes narrowed unhappily at this.

Wordlessly, Ranma presented the kettle to his...friend, who accepted with a polite grin he somehow managed to embue with smugness. In short order, Ukyo's eyes were as blue as ever, as she gratefully returned the kettle. She looked at her silent fiancé with ill-concealed amusement. Ranma regarded her a full minute in silence.

She was beginning to feel a little self-conscious when Ranma exhaled mightily. He extended his hand. 'He wasn't!' "Truce?" he asked, his bearing not unlike a condemned man. With poorly hidden astonishment, she regarded the hand before her. That little scene by the brook must really have shaken him up. She had admittedly outlined some future plans, but the fact that Ranchan was actually calling for a ceasefire to the shenanigans, combined with her somewhat forgiving nature swept those aside.

Affectionately, she took his hand, and smiled back. "Truce," she agreed. His uncharacteristic uncertainty melted away from his face, and she couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "But," she reminded him good naturedly, "you started this in the first place..."

"I know, I know," he grumbled without rancour. "I owe you a forfeit." They shared a silly grin with each other for a few moments before Ranma added, "But don't think I ain't gonna call off this truce sometime," he threatened. She laughed,

"And don't YOU think that I won't eventually call in this forfeit. You owe me one, Sugar," she finished with mirth.

Genma scowled at this exchange.

o-o-o

Tucking into her okonomiyaki, Ukyo suddenly identified what had been troubling her the last half hour. "Say, Ranchan," she began, a little bit of concern in her voice, "you haven't seen Ryoga, have you?"

"Not since we were trainin', Ucchan," he answered between bites. Overhearing this, the Guide uncharacteristically volunteered something useful.

"Sirs, friend walk away some hour ago. Think he going to do business, but still no come back."

"Ryoga," groaned Ukyo in exasperation, "why did you have to go off alone? Think we should go look for him, Ranchan?" He shook his head knowingly, and mumbled through his dinner.

"You know it'd be pointless, Ucchan. Marco Polo could half-way to Beijing by now, and even he wouldn't know it."

"I know you're right, Ranchan," she said disquietly. "I just feel kinda, y'know, responsible for him. Like a kid brother." Ranma held up his hand.

"Woah there, Ucchan," he frowned. "You ain't responsible for nothin'. Its Ryoga's lousy sense of direction, and you being too nice for your own good that's to blame. And that second one is really his fault, too," he frowned."'Sides, you know he can take care of himself. He'll probably be waitin' for us when we get back to Japan."

"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised," she chuckled. "I still can't believe he followed us all the way here, though."

"So, who'd he blame?" asked Ranma simply.

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled. Yawning, he answered.

"Oh, come on, Ucchan. Ya don't hang around with someone for a year and not learn anything about them. You and me both know that ol' Ryoga simply can't accept that bad things just happen sometimes. Especially to him. He's gotta assign blame to _someone_. Heck, even if the weather takes a bad turn, he's tries to find some poor sap to pin it on." He suddenly shuddered. "Nothin' big," he answerd at his companion's inquiry."Just had a horrible thought of what it'd like for someone if Ryoga ever decided they were the source of all his problems. Can you imagine?"

o-o-o

_Oh, one can. _

_Sadist._

_Bite me._

o-o-o

Ranma shuddered once more and banished the horrible thought away, and began rolling his shoulder to work out the kinks in his left arm. "So, like I was sayin' Ukyo. You probably know who Ryoga's decided to bear responsibility for whatever little snafu brought him here, right?"

Ten years with Genma and Ranma had allowed Ukyo to fully master The Saotome Guilty-Conscience Laugh (or as she liked to think of it, 'The I Know You Know I Know Something I'd rather you didn't know-Chuckle'), and she utilised this special technique in an effort not to sweatdrop.

"Er...you?" she mumbled uncertainly.

"What about me?" He suddenly made a disgusted sound. "Shoulda seen that comin', really. So what'd I do? Rearrange the scenery so that he SOMEHOW got hopelessly lost and couldn't find you in time for you 'date'?" Shaking her head slightly, she replied,

"Actually, he blamed you for abducting _and _spiriting me away to China before he arrived...on the fourth day," she addedtryingto keep amusement from her voice. Ranma blinked, and began rubbing his temples with the thumb and middle finger of his right hand.

"I don't know where'ta even begin with that," he moaned. "Have you tried getting the concept of 'four days late', 'training trip', or even the sheer improbability of someone abducting his own fiancée through his thick skull?" Ukyo's breath caught, but she tried not to let it show. Ranma almost never referred to her as his fiancée. He didn't seem to notice her reaction as he stared at the sky. "Come to think of it," he thought aloud, "I did notice Ryoga givin' me these weird looks since Jusenkyo. Never figured it for the 'evil eye', though." Genma's ears, which had been covertly following the conversation, picked up at this.

"But I explained everything to him at Jusenkyo," pointed out Ukyo, "and he seemed to understand. He said he believed me, and Ryoga's not the type to lie. I don't think he could considering..."

"His gross stupidity?" suggested Ranma.

"His forthrightness," corrected the chef. "So if he was looking at you it was for some other reason..." she trailed off into a choked laugh, finally recalling an incident from days before. This quickly grew into a full on fit of giggling, the chef pressing her face into her blue gi. Despite being fairly certain that he didn't want to know, Ranma prodded Ukyo back to lucidity with a grumpy cough. He stared at her questioningly as she wiped away a tear.

"What?" he demanded in mornid curiousity.

Smiling wickedly, she hurriedly explained why it was she thought Ryoga had devoted so much of his attention since Jusenkyo to Ranma, whose face twisted into a grimace of revulsion.

"Its not his fault, Ranchan," sniggered the girl. "As he said, you are so 'kawaii'!"

"Oh man, Ryoga!" he shivered. "That's..." he couldn't finish the sentence. Abruptly, he looked up to see the very furry form of his father, who had somehow gotten close unnoticed. He flashed a sign.

_You stay away from that Hibiki, boy._ It flipped. _You're marrying a girl!_ He growfed, and plodded away.

"That... was new," said Ranma, staring after him.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Pops never usually brings up the engagement like that."

"And what's he mean 'Stay away from Ryoga'?" he winced almost violently. "Like I wanna be near him!" The chef snickered again.

"Like I said, Hon. You're just so,"

"Kawaii! I get it!"

"Don't let it get you down," she suggested. "I'm not teasing you when I say that you look really cute... y'know, _that_ way." He 'hmphed', sceptically. "I'm serious," insisted the brunette honestly.

"Well so do you," he complained, "an' you're not getting the freakin' googly eyes from Ryoga!"

"I guess this means Ryochan won't be crushing over plain old Ukyo, anymore?" she said in poorly feigned distress.

o-o-o

The group awoke to an ominous peal of thunder, and elicited mutual groans as the heavens opened. The Guide led the cursed individuals away from the recently dusty clearing and through the muddy areathe teenagershad seen the night before. The sky cleared slightly by the time they reached the stream. "Wanna heat some water?" questioned Ranma. She rolled her eyes to the heavens as a fresh shower answered her.

"You want we should wait until rain stop, sir?" asked the Guide. Snorting tiredly, the redhead replied,

"Nah. Let's just get to this village you keep talking about. I'm dying for something to eat 'sides camp rice and okonomiyaki."

"Hey, what's wrong with okonomiyaki?" asked Ukyo defensively. "You've never complained before," he pointed out, putting his hands on his hips and pouting.

"Nothin' at all," relied Ranma honestly. "But then again, we've never gone this long with only _plain_ okonomiyaki," she pointed out. Ukyo nodded.

"Hey, I'm with you, Sugar. Still, I've got to speak up for the team," he explained looking down at Ranma. He wondered if he'd ever get used to that disparate view.

"I'm on the team, too, y'know. Just be aware that revolution is in the air," singsonged the redhead. Ukyoarched an eyebrow thoughtfully.

o-o-o

Later, the weather had settled, and they approached Joketsuzoku eagerly. Hoping to sate their hunger, they found themselves drawn by a crowd to large structure in the centre of the village. Lots of people, mostly women, were gathered, with a few men milling around. Children were playing in the street as vendors hawked their wares unabashedly. It wasn't hard to feel the buzz that was permeating the crowd.

Soaking up the carnival atmosphere, the cursed group followed the Guide towards the large structure, as he began to explain. "Today, Tournament for Amazon womans what only come once a year." Ranma nodded as she and Ukyo took seats by a large table covered in various foodstuffs. Finding her mouth watering, Ranma tucked into the freely open food, which Genma had already began attacking. Shrugging when he saw nobody in the village complain, or even look their way, Ukyo bit into a large ham. Still concentrating on the spectacle before them, the Guide continued. "Is great honour to win, sirs. See, final match happen now." They paused as two Amazons readied themselves atop the huge log that was hanging from the structure, acting as a suspended battleground.

"_That's_ a woman?" questioned Ranma dubiously, as a hulking, broad shouldered Amazon attacked her smaller opponent with a loud grunt. Indicating the opponent who had nimbly dodged the attack, the Guide commented,

"See. That one more pretty, no?" Ranma nodded absently as the girl in question sent her opponent flying from the log with a mighty blow of her bonbori. The Chinese manturned, waiting to hear the martial artists' views on the battle, when the entire crowd became deathly quiet. "Sirs," he said gaining their attention, "what you eating there..."

Ukyo paused at the Guide's words, and realised that the three of them were the centre of attention of the village. His gut instincts cut in as he leapt an airborne bonbori which continued to fly and imbed itself beside Ranma, who didn't flinch. He turned in surprise, to see the winner of the tournament, pointing another bonbori at them, with a look of anger spoiling her pretty face. She muttered something at them in Mandarin. Ranma and Genma grunted something through the food in their mouths as Ukyo listened to the Guide's translation. "She say 'Outsider womans and panda. Today I win great victory. Why you steal my prize?' That's what she say." Perking up at the translation, Ranma asked from the bench,

"Hey, but if I beat her, I win the prize, right? So there'll be no problem?" The Guide turned to the seething Amazon girl and said something in Chinese. She smiled and took up a battle stance. Ranma tried... and failed to extricate herself from between the fat panda and the ruined bench, the crowd looking on in confusion. Ukyo sighed and rolled his eyes from the position by the table.

"Just leave this to me, Ranchan."

"Alright," grumbled the redhead, as she realised that her foot was caught firmly beneath the gorged panda. Shaking his head, Ukyo readied a spatula and moved towards the indignant Amazon, who paused in surprise for a moment, but then resumed her stance.

'So the taller woman wanted to fight her instead? No matter.' Shampoo would beat her just as easily. She rushed her, attempting to swat away her strange weapon. Shampoo never expected the outsider to sweep her long hair forward and take her feet from beneath her. The fall winded the Amazon, and before she could recover, she was on her back with the blade of the outsider's weapon levelled at her chest. Shampoo looked to the bonbori just out of reach, and then back to the outsider, who shook her head slowly. The Amazon's body slackened in acknowledgement of her defeat. The outsider smiled crookedly and sheathed her bizarre weapon, turning back to her companions. Shampoo stood mechanically, still in shock from her abasement. Amazon law dictated what she must do.

o-o-o

Ranma grinned at Ucchan as he made his way back to the long table. "There, now there's no problem," said the chef with satisfaction, patting his hands together. The redhead gave Ukyo a thumbs-up, and the chef beamed at the gesture.

'Woah. That was different.' Ranma gradually let a similar smile spread across her face. She broke eye contact with Ukyo as a hand appeared on his cheek. It belonged to the Amazon girl. What was she doing? She cupped Ukyo's face, as the chef looked on in passive obfuscation. Moving her body right beside Ukyo's she slowly placed a long kiss on the shocked martial artist's face.

o-o-o

This outsider woman would pay for stealing her victory. Shampoo leant in close to place a slow, deliberate kiss on the on the outsider's cheek. The Amazon gradually pulled her lips away, a sinister smirk on her face. The smirk immediately transformed into wide-eyeddumbfoundment asShampoo felt something brush up against...She quickly ran her hands across the outsider's chest. Her world turned upside-down. It was a man!

o-o-o

Ranma's battle aura flared when the Amazon pulled away from Ukyo, who stood there with a somewhat vacant expression, and proceeded to rub her hands across the chef's chest. Surprised to find herself seething, Ranma froze when the purple haired girl planted a kiss smack on the lips ofher... of Ucchan!

**That..._ hussy!_**

The redhead clenched her fists as the Amazon hugged Ukyo and cried out something to the village, which was met with raucous cheers,save one guy in white robes shrieking madly and having to be restrained. Ignoring this, and without taking her eyes off the pair, Ranma asked the Guide in white- hot tones just what 'the hussy' had said.

"Amazon woman give Kiss of Marriage, sir. She declare it to whole village. It very lucky that miss is in cursed form, sir," he continued, but Ranma had stopped listening after that first sentence. She forcefully freed herself from the panda who she didn't see was holding a sign reading,

_Not what I'd planned, but it'll do in a pinch._

She swept ominously over to the Amazon, who was still latched onto the chef, and growled,

"Get away from my fiancé!" Her tone made the Guide's quick interpretation pointless. The Amazon smiled darkly at the redhead, and said something which she thought she heard the Guide interpret as 'Obstacles is for killing'.

o-o-o

Just to be certain, Shampoo looked closely at the redhead's half opened gi top. Good, this little one_was _a woman, and she would teach her to stay out of Amazon affairs. She couldn't possibly be half as good as her new husband was. Quickly reclaiming her lost bonbori, Shampoo flung herself forward.

Only to be sent crashing backwards again. No! This was...This was just too much! This one would pay for humiliating her.

o-o-o

Before she realised what she was doing, Ranma had latched onto Ukyo in a credible imitation of the Amazon girl's earlier display. The strong grip finally broke the okonomiyaki chef's daze. He blinked twice and saw Ranma's small face staring up at him. "Ranchan," he began slowly, "what just happened?" Before she could respond, a massive blush raged across Ranma's face, as she motioned downwards. Ukyo looked down, and gulped in mortification, before someone appeared behind Ranma. It was the girl Ukyo had defeated. Still blushing, Ranma was caught unawares by the kiss on the cheek, but growled bestially as the girl made her way between them and into Ukyo's grasp.

Resembling a steam cooker that had been left on _far_ too long, Ranchan opened her mouth to say something. Ukyo never got to hear it,being suddenly dragged away. He looked up to see that both Ranma and he were being hauled bodily away by the Guide, who displayed a remarkable amount strength to hold onto the teenaged pair.

Before Ukyo discerned it, they had fled from the village, Genma in tow, and the heavy-set man began to explain a certain Amazon law that would be rather impactful on the next few months of their lives.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I don't understand why, but FFNet has been deleting the spaces between some words whenever I upload /edit a chapter. I try to catch as many of these as I can.

Its been asked why they simply didn't bottle some Nannichuan/Nyannichuan and take it with them. There's an answer to this, so don't worry (even though it should be pointed out that the canon Ranma and Genma left Jusenkyo without even asking about a cure).

Ace A


	5. Tempting Fate

**Chapter 4 – Tempting Fate**

"Probably took off during the night," concluded Ukyo. "I suppose we can't really blame him," she groused, squinting in the poor light of the forest."Its not as though we haven't caused him enough bother since we showed up at Jusenkyo and all, you think Ranchan?" Her fiancée didn't respond. "Ranchan?"she repeated. He glanced at her, and shrugged,

"I guess so." Ukyo frowned at his noncommital reply. She continued,

"Still, I didn't think he'd leave us in the cold like this. But it probably couldn't be helped. He did leave his daughter behind at Jusenkyo after all. But it would have been helpful..." she trailed.

_Ha!_ read the sign presented by the awakening Genma. _We didn't need the Guide to get us out of here._ The board turned. _I'm more than enough to lead us out of this mess._ Ukyo began to grow angry when he proffered another sign. _That's why I sent him home last night._ He held the sign and nodded. _You two should be grateful._She fumed when he produced a final sign. _We can consider this whole experience to betraining._ He turned and she could just make out the small writing on the other side of the wood: _Just glad its not my skin she wants._

The sign fell away in several pieces, as Genma dodged theirate chef's spatula. She pursued.Unusually groggy from sleep, theelder Saotome was unable to maintain his evasion long. He took the flat of Ukyo's blade fully on his crown.

"That's for sending the Guide away without thinking," she admonished, and then smacked his prone form a second time. "And that's for caring only about your own worthless butt when Ranchan is the one in danger." She brought down her spatula in one final noisy thud. "And _that's_ for using those dumb signs when you're not even a panda!"

Genma, remarkably shaking off the effects of the beating, held up another sign,

_You sure about that, boy?_ Ukyo scrunched up her face as she considered the large martial artist before her. Ukyo cursed mildly, aimed as much at the panda as it was at the drizzle that had just soaked through his clothes.

He turned to his freshly female fiancée,brows scrunchingonce moreat herpeculiar reticence. "You okay, Ranchan?" he inquired. The girl slowly craned her neck topeer at the dull sky through the thick canopy.

"Fine, Ukyo," she answered.Her tone indicated otherwise. The brunet imagined that having a death warrant recently placed on one's head could somewhat detract from from one's spiritedness. Yet, Ranma's behaviour seemed unlike that of a condemned individual. It almost reminded him of Tsubasa's early behaviour around Ryoga. Before the crossdresser had really flew off the handle.

And when had been the last time that Ranma had directly addressed her as 'Ukyo'?

A deadly 'twang' cut through his contemplation. He swung his battle spatula in a wide arc, intercepting the arrow that had been on course for Ranma's torso. Ukyo smiled when he noticedthat the redhead was standing a distance from where she had been crouched. She would have dodged anyway. They spied rustling in a clump of bushes in the direction from which the arrow had flown.

"Come out!" Demanded Ukyo reaching for his second spatula.He held it defensively, using the other to motion at the forest."We all see you." Or rather, Ukyo and Ranma did. Genma was in parts unknown.

Gradually the anticipated lavender-haired individual emerged from the scenery, holding a bow with an arrow nocked... Which she loosed without ceremony. Ukyo sighed gladly when Ranma didn't try to showboat and pluck the arrow form the air, choosing instead to roll out of harm's way. "Ranchan! You alright?" she asked with concern.

"Like I said; just fine, Ukyo," she replied as mechanically as before, while her would-be killer was readying another arrow.

"Stop already!" screamed Ukyo at the girl, before she could fire off a third projectile. For a wonder, she did, lowering her bow and flinging away her arrow. "Huh?" blinked the chef, glancing at Ranma, who maintained a ready stance, shrugging back. "What do you want?"asked the chef oftheir attacker, immediately realising how stupid a question it was. He balked as the Amazon dropped her weapon and began moving towards them. Ukyo blinked as Ranma stepped nearer to him, almostpossessively. The apparently unarmed Chinese girl pausedfive metresfrom the pair.

"Husband," she said to Ukyo in a very thickly accented voice, as though the word had only just been learned. "You come back with Shampoo, now."

"Like hell she will!" snarled Ranma hotly. "She is _my_ fiancé!" Ukyo's eyes widened at the forceful declaration. So he wasn't misremembering...

"Ranchan..?" heasked, subdued. Ranma looked up at him intently, somehow also keeping an eye on the Amazon, until her determination shifted into confusion.

"Wait a minute," demanded the redhead,"'_Shampoo_'?" she repeated dubiously.

The Amazon frowned, then pointed to herself announcing,

"Shampoo. Is wife." She pointed to the chef. "Ucchan. Is husband." Finally she directed a look at Ranma. Her eyes narrowed as she said, "Ranchan. Is obstacle," before producing a butterfly sword from... somewhere, diving at the redhead.

"Stop!" cried Ukyo moving to parry the blade's strike. He didn't have to. Shampoo had stopped in mid-swing, and stood staring at Ukyo. "W-why did you stop?" he flustered. Ranma meanwhile had made no attempt to move, and continued to glare at the Amazon with animosity burning coldly in her blue eyes. The Amazon, Shampoo, pondered over the question for a minute, seemingly planning out the answer in her head. Eventually she explained,

"Where husband from, wife obey. Shampoo obey until break Ucchan-husband in. Then he be proper Amazon husband." Ukyo considered the implications of this for a moment, before coming to a conclusion.

"Alright, 'Shampoo'," he promulgated, "as your husband," Ranma gasped, "I command you to remain here and not follow us. I also command you not to try to hurt Ranchan."

"No," came the succinct reply. Ukyo was perturbed.

"But... you just said - "

"This Shampoo cannot do. No kill woman what defeat Amazon woman big dishonour. No marry man what defeat Amazon woman biggest dishonour." The girl proclaimed this with a finality. Ukyo realised wasn't she going to budge on the matter. But the girl _had_ obeyed his earlier command not to attack Ranma. What was different? Of course. Deepening his voice as much as he could, he intoned in a slightly squeaky falsetto,

"Shampoo! As your husband, I command you not to try to hurt Ranchan in the foreseeable future. I also command you to remain here when Ranchan and I leave, and not to try to track us for a week, alright?" he finished weakly. Ukyo was worried that the Amazon would be as stubborn as before, and felt this fear validated when the girl's brows knotted, and muttered,

"What 'foreseeable'?"

The chef sighed in relief.

"It means 'for a long time'."

Shampoo considered this, and came to a decision.

"Is okay. Shampoo obey husband." Ukyo cheered inwardly. "But soon," she smiled,"Shampoo break husband in. Then it no matter."As the sentence had finished the girl had glomped onto Ukyo. She looked at him smokily as Ranma grit her teeth and raised her fist. "Wo ai ni," she breathed silverly, before releasing the chef, and smirking at Ranma, who looked about ready to pummel her. Considering that said girl was emanating a battle aura redder than her hair, Ukyo felt it prudent that they should leave sooner rather than later.

o-o-o

At last! He'd been travelling for three days before he came across his pack, concealed beneath some shrubs where he surmised they had camped several nights earlier. The famished boy tucked greedily into his supplies. Only visions of redheads and okonomiyaki chefs had nourished him the past few nights. With food now in his belly, the same visions drove him to strive onward.

As Ryoga trudged across the sodden earth, he contemplated the position in which he'd found himself. How could he love _two_ girls? Any lingering doubt that Ranma was now a girl had been swept away by her most womanly reaction to that pervert who had tried to molest her by the stream.

Ah, Ranma, with her glittering azure eyes, her dazzling smile, her elfin face, her lithe, well built... Ryoga's eyes glazed over. But what of Ukyo! With her earthy humour, her smooth, lovely face, her flowing dark hair, her long curvaceous...He wiped away drool.

o-o-o

_Doesn't this seem somehow... malapropos?_

_Whatever could you mean?_

o-o-o

Ranma, a paragon of feminity and grace! Ukyo, with her unique bubbly exuberance and beauty!

The angel and the nymph. How could he choose?

Why couldn't he have them both!

o-o-o

_Fix it. _

_Killjoy._

_Now!_

o-o-o

What the hell was he thinking? Of course he couldn't have them both. That would be immoral, and Ryoga Hibiki wasn't immoral. He dashed away some thoughts that threatened to disprove this, as he continued on his lonely trek.

Much later, Ryoga spied a single hut standing on a nearby hill. He reluctantly ceased his ruminations on how to maneuver two girls into a three-way relationship. After all, it would only be immoral if the other two didn't know about one another.A thin stream of smoke attested tothe cabin's occupancy. Perhaps he could ask for directions. He plodded haggardly up the gentle slope, and knocked.

"Oh, honoured customer," exclaimed the Guide in surprise. "Welcome back to Jusenkyo!"

o-o-o

It had been four days since they'd left behind Shampoo, and three since they'd been rejoined by Pop. His forays into cowardice had long since lost their shock value on his two students. This however, didn't prevent a most unpleasant (for Genma, at least) display of their displeasure upon his reappearance.

Ranma had reacted as Ukyo expected when Pops strolled nonchalantly back into camp the morning after they encountered the Amazon. Since then he had been oddly detached from conversation. As they didn't stop to periodically heat the kettle - wanting to put as much ground as possible between them and Shampoo that head start would allow - this left Ukyo with nobody to talk to. Save a grumpy, sign-wielding panda. She was beginning to feel decidedly grumpy herself; her nascent annoyance at Ranma's laconic responses to her attempts tobegin conversation, growing by the day.

He had been so open that night after they'd called the truce. Just enjoying one another's company, and discussing things that didn't pertain to the associated subjects of martial arts or food. They had always gotten along, like buddies do. They'd never gotten along like that.

It had continued on into the next day, when they'd arrived at Joketsuzoku. After accidentally eating the first prize, Ukyo had defeated Shampoo with that same technique they had sparred in the night before. The chef had turned back to the table to see Ranma giving her (well, him at the time) a thumbs-up. Ukyo had never been so pleased to receive someone's approval as she had then. And then Ranma had smiled at her. That moment had seemed to freeze. Ranma and she had shared the beginnings of something that they never had before. Something Ukyo had always hoped they could one day share.

_Naturally_, something had happened to interrupt. She only recalled a fragmented account of the following events. According to the Guide, she'd been given the Kiss of Marriage by the Amazon; a pledge that Shampoo would track her (him) to the ends of the earth and return with Ukyo as her husband.

The chef realised that Ranma had_ challenged_ Shampoo, naming Ukyo _her_ fiancée. This recollection actually made Ranchan's attitude over the past few days even more irksome.

When Ukyo regained cognizance, it had been to Ranma's concerned face.That moment had been spoiled by an infuriating reaction by that new body. And before anything could be said, the Guide had a hold on them, moving like a man possessed, for their sakes.

Thinking more on it, it hadn't been after Shampoo had attacked three days ago that Ranma had began acting coolly; it was after they'd left the village. However, the second incident with the girl seemed to have caused Ranma to distance himself further that before, something which Ukyo failed to understand. He'd been adamant about his engagement with Shampoo, yet remained somewhat cold to the subject of the engagement herself. Ukyo resolved to unravel this. If for nothing else, because it annoyed the ever-loving hell out of her.

o-o-o

The three martial artists rose to the pitter-patter of rainfall. Having gone to sleep in their cursed forms, this day promised them no respite. By unspoken agreement, they deigned not to train that morning. The dire weather seemed a match for the group's mood. Ukyo began sleepily making breakfast, but reduced the servings when she saw Pops idly helping himself to a nearby cluster of bamboo.

Ranma sat down in her oversized gi, and wordlessly took a proffered bowl. They ate in rain sodden silence for a few minutes, Ukyo keeping his growing ire calm, giving himself time to fully wake up. When he felt ready, he quietly demanded, "Spill it. Now." Ranma frowned, eyeing her dish.

"But I wanna eat it

"Oh, _ha ha_." Commented Ukyo. "Its likeyousaid, **Ranma**," he paused, noting the girl's eyes widen when Ukyo dropped her pet name."You don't hang around somebody for a year, or in this case, ten years, and not learn anything about them. So 'fess up," he demanded again. "What's eating you?"

Looking away, the girl brushed at imagined dirt on her gi,muttering,

"I don't know what you mean," in the same maddening tone she'd been using for days. Fighting to keep growing ire under control, Ukyo ploughed onward.

"You've been, for want of a better term, moping about ever since we left Joketsuzoku." Ukyo saw she flinched at 'moping'. A hit; a fine hit! "And you've been even sulkier since Shampoo attacked us." Ranma flinched again. "So, I ask you again: what is the problem? I mean, your fretting about is costing us time on Shampoo. You want her to catch us?" he asked rhetorically. Ranma placed the dish down and stood, still looking away, and mumbled,

"Yeah, like you'd hate that so much." She moved away, leaving behind a thoroughly addled okonomiyaki chef. One who hadn't missed the pout on Ranma's face.

'What had that got to do with any...' Ukyo's hand flew to his mouth in a little gasp. Ranma was...she was...he was... Two emotions warred in Ukyo's head at this realisation. One of them was gross irritation. The other, something quite different. The latter feeling won out, as burgeoning smile appeared behind his hand. He lowered it, to see that the reaction tohis new understading had not gone unnoticed by Ranma. The girl quickly looked away, and made a show of casually staring into the distance.

Ranma glanced surreptitiously at Ukyo, to see him staring right back at her, sporting a grin like the cat that ate the canary. Ranma didn't know that she liked that grin. In fact, she was certain she didn't. Yet, the unwavering expression lifted her spirits. Ranma grinned toherself. The redhead felt better than she had since Joketsuzoku. Her smile faded a bit at that thought. Ucchan's grin remained.

o-o-o

"Sorry to bother you, but could you tell me where I..."

The current Guide had worked at Jusenkyo for twenty-five years. In that quarter of a century of dealing with choleric cursed victims, ignorant customers, arrogant Amazons, and the somewhat crackers Musk; he had developed a level of patience that would shame a saint on Prozac. However, this...boy, was beginning to test it.

"Honoured customer," moaned the Guide languidly, "You in Jusenkyo last time. You in Jusenkyo time before that. You _**still **_in Jusenkyo, sir!" The boy in the bandanna looked around.

"Are you sure? I was certain that this time I..."

"Yes sir. I sure," answered the Guide more calmly than he felt. It began to rain and the uniformed man sighed. "Please come in, sir. I make dinner, then I lead you out of cursed springs," _again_, he thought resignedly.

o-o-o

It was still raining when the Guide began to lead the martial artist out of Jusenkyo anew. Deciding to lead him to a different exit in hopes that he wouldn't find his way back again, the Guide and the umbrella-sporting boy tread close to several of the springs. They were passing by one particular pool when a sharp gust of wind caused a little earth to shift on a nearby rocky hillside.

With the earth, shifted some small pebbles, or more specifically, some small load-bearing pebbles. The small stones careened down the hillside followed closely by more than half a dozen head-sized rocks, on a trajectory to land in a certain pool.

Ryoga's danger sense kicked in as several stones splashed into the pool to his left. Instinctively, he brought his umbrella down to block the spray. He was wet enough as it was.

He turned back to the Guide, who was staring at him in shocked relief. "Sir, you is very lucky customer! That is very cursed spring." Ryoga frowned as the Guide began reciting the 'too too tragic tale' of some animal that had drowned in the pool twelve hundred years ago. "Is terrible, sir."

"No need to worry," instructed the Lost Boy. "It wasn't as though I was going to fall in," he pointed out. The Guide regarded him as though he'd just asked what colour blue was.

"Uh, sir. Water splash enough cause curse," he informed the boy. Ryoga blinked twice, then turned in horror. Skin crawling, he asked,

"You mean I was nearly cursed by the Spring of...?

"Drowned Orang-utan, sir. Is very cursed spring!" Ryoga nodded mutely in full agreement.

"To think, I could have been..." he gulped.

'Wait a minute,' he thought. If one only needs to be splashed, then Ryoga could get some 'Drowned Girl' spring water for Ukyo. How happy she'd be when he arrived and cured her! Then she'd thank him, and... they could finally go out on their date! (Though he'd have to keep it secret from Ranma. He wouldn't want to hurt her feelings.) But this was perfect! "Where is the Spring of Drowned Girl?" asked Ryoga intently.

"Here sir, is Nyannichuan: Spring of Drowned Girl," announced the uniformed man, after leading the muttering figure to the correct pool. The boy nodded absently, and produced a flask from his backpack. Emptying the contents on the ground, he asked,

"Will this hold enough to curse someone?" His concern growing, but still having a job to do, the Guide nodded nervously.

Ryoga knelt cautiously by the spring's edge and carefully lowered the flask's opening into the water. He filled it almost completely, his hand never touching the surface. Standing, he sealed the container, and turned to face the Guide, a wide smile on his face. "Now I'll be able to cure Ukyo-san," he said dreamily, more to himself than to his companion. He stepped forward, unaware of the protruding root in his path.

"No, sir. You no understand," warned the Guide. "Spring water, it," he began, stepping closer to Ryoga, only for his foot to fail to find purchase on a slick piece of stone beneath him. "Aaiiiyaaa!" he wailed as he tumbled inexorably forward.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need help?" inquired Ryoga from atop the Nyannichuan's bamboo pole. His quick reaction had gotten him away from the dangerous splash. A Chinese girl in very oversized green garments broke the surface, yelling shrilly.

"No! That it!" shrieked the girl. "You worst customer ever!" she admonished, pulling herself from the pool. "You stay hell away!" she ordered, moving off as Ryoga looked on.

"Hey," he called. "What was it you were saying about the water a minute ago?" he questioned, still balanced on the pole. The female Guide only answered with some muttered Chinese, which Ryoga, with his limited knowledge of the language, translated as best he could. "Why would she want me to 'go and phone myself'?" he wondered aloud.

o-o-o

_What **was** that?_

_You were too distracted. You didn't notice that it kept raining?_

_So he had his umbrella ready. And the Guide slipped before he could trip on the root. Clever. But why?_

_Considering some of the things you have planned for this guy, does he really deserve a curse, too?_

_Undoubtedly._

_Really? Hell, you even have him infatuated with the Saotome kid._

_Been working on that._

_So you've come up with something that will change his lust for the kid into something else?_

_One might say that._

_One might also say what you've come up with._ Fate did.

_You sick bas... Heh heh. Reflecting on what you just said, do you still feel he deserves a curse, too? _

_Well, he does have some rather glaring character flaws._

_That's my department. Well, do you?_

_All right,_ Fate begrudged._ But if he comes back here again... How does the 'Hibikinichuan' sound?_

_I'd say overkill._

_Funny. I'd say just the right amount of kill._

_You would._

_And how._

o-o-o  
o-o-o o-o-o  
o-o-o o-o-o o-o-o

Author's Note: Yes, Fate and Karma are annoying. Their involvement in the story will decrease as it progresses.

Also, this site is still removing word spaces when I upload or edit a chapter. Its frustrating, but it can't be helped.


	6. Gruel Tidings

**Chapter 5 – Gruel Tidings**

The small group had been skittish for the last few days, still traversing China's Qinghai Province. Not that they had been prone to attack, by bandits or whatnot. The sight of two well built martial artists dissuaded all but the most foolhardy of attackers. And having a seemingly impeccably trained and _very_ large giant panda in their midst ensured that their cursed forms didn't appear vulnerable either. Even the knowledge that a certain lavender-haired belle with murderous intentions was now on their trails didn't cause them too much concern. Unless Shampoo had wings, she wasn't going to catch them.

No, what had made the trio wary was the forbidding sensation of dread that saturated Ranma and Ukyo's thoughts for two days now. The two young martial artists felt as thought they were walking into some unsavory premeditated trap. The younger Saotome in particular was uneasy to the degree that were it not for the homicidal Amazon that lay that way, he'd head back two days travel and detour around the whole area. Despite the overwhelming certainty of impending doom, neither he, nor Ukyo had any idea just _**why**_ they felt so ill at ease.

o-o-o

_I've got an idea. You had your way earlier. It's my turn._

_I think you're-_

_Being petty? You're right, I am. Enough with the omens._

o-o-o

His two charges' anxious behavior hadnudged the Anything-Goes Master to the point of vexation for several days now. He'd have thought that they were still trying to punish him for his well-timed (and certainly not pusillanimous) change of venue when the insane Warrior Girl had shown up, by trying to make him paranoid. But Genma knew thatneither of the youths, especially his son, was acompetent enough actor to fool him.

He awoke to the sound of tristful grumbling. His ingrate son was complaining about their supplies. "Not more camp rice," whined Ranma, bemoaning the lack of variety. He turned to the rising young chef. "Ucchan, I take back what I said before. I'd kill for a plain okinomiyaki right now." The other teen rolled her eyes,

"I'm not exactly fond of our current culinary selection either, Sugar. But you know we can't afford to go far off track for supplies," she said in resigned tones. "At least not with Xena on our trail." She knelt down and opened her pack, "I swear, cooking rice is so boring," she griped as she began breakfast. Ranma sighed at the sight.

Thoughprojecting a look of disapproval at his son's ungratefulness, Genma couldn't help but agree that another day of rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner wasn't topping his wish list. He too, sighed inwardly as he accepted the proffered rice from Ukyo. Ten years with the girl in their company had thoroughly spoiled the Saotome men. Why, three square servings of rice a day would have seemed heavenly to Genma when he and Tendo had trained together under the Master. Still, he couldn't begrudge the simple truth that he's prefer being spoiled any day of the week to that foraging existence he had subsisted on before.

Genma was near finished his second serving when the rain began to fall. The insistent drizzle doused Ukyo's campfire amid weary curses from the chef. Genma ignored these as he surveyed the surrounding area, this time taking note of the thick vegetation. He smiled a panda smile. 'Who says he'd only have rice today?'

Ranma eyed her father with scorn as the panda began chomping on the abundant florae in the area, as Ucchan continued to string together a series of mild expletitives.

"Well, the rain's stopped," mumbled the chef obviously, as thefall dissapated into a hazy mist. "Want to help me start another fire, Ranchan?" Ranma looked up to her fiancé, to her feasting father, to the half-eaten dish of rice in her hand. She downed it quickly, her stomach growling. She shook her head and replied,

"Nah, Ucchan." A gleam appeared in her eye. "How about this? You want to make for that restaurant that old guy told us about?" Ukyo effeminately shrugged his shoulders is resignation.

"Ranchan," he began (for what felt like the tenth time), "that old guy was probably crazy. For all we know, he made up the whole thing." His tone turned mildly derisive, "I mean, **come on!** A restaurant up a mountain in the middle of nowhere that serves exotic dishes?" He paused for a moment hoping that his words would sink in to the girl's hard skull. He blew a withered breath when the redhead's expression didn't waver, but continued nonetheless. "Don't you find that a _little_ far-fetched?" Ranma, fists on hips, was smiling,

"Nope," she answered cockily, "I find it right _there_," she said pointing at a mountainside, the base of which was lost in the distance. Ukyo blinked at this and concentrated on augmenting his sight as best he could. His emerald eyes widened. Sure enough, there was a barely visible stream of smoke snaking up from the mountainside. Ranma smiled,

"Coming with, Ucchan? Pops'll stay here with the stuff, but we can take a pack each and fill up on supplies from the restaurant. And maybe a lunch that ain't rice!" she added hopefully. As much as the idea appealed to the okonomiyaki chef, he was skeptical,

"Ranchan," he pointed out, "just because there's smoke doesn't mean that there's a restaurant. It could be just another traveler like us," he surmised.

"Aha!" proclaimed the determined girl. "But that smoke never went out when it rained. So it must be a building!" Ukyo rolled his tongue against his cheek.

"You are aware that it could be raining here and not a few kilometres away, right?"

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," replied the headstrong girl, grabbing a pack. "So, you coming or ain't ya?" she asked. Ukyo could seethat Ranmawas near imperceptibly shifting her balance from foot to foot in herimpatience. Soughing, he conceded,

"Okay, Ranchan," he smiled at his stubborn fiancée, "but just give me a few minutes to heat up some water." Ranma looked positively stricken at the thought of having todally a moment longer. When hermidriff rumbled loud enough to make Genma pause in his engorgement, she hit Ukyo with a pleading look, that was probably meant to seem placating.

"Tell ya what, why don't you catch up to me?" she suggested, grasping her abdomen. "We'll, ahh," she frowned, "make a training exercise out of it... or something. Well, see ya!" she finished before nimbly scampering away towards the mountain in question.

'Training exercise my fanny!' Thought Ukyo gazing at the shrinking form of Ranma scurrying up the mountainside. He turned as the kettle announced its readiness with a hiss. Whimpering in pain, as he availed himself of the too hot water, the again female chef narrowed her eyes at her fiancée's distant figure.

"Let's just see who wins this 'training exercise'," she drawled to herself before bounding after the redhead, pack in hand.

o-o-o

'This's no mountain', groused Ranma to herself, as she hurried up the hillside. 'It just looked that way from the ground'. And she had been looking forward to a good workout to increase her appetite. At the thought of food, the poor girl moaned piteously. She assuaged herself with the sight of the 'far-fetched' restaurant, clearly visible on a not-too distant ridge. A nascent fantasy of steaming pork buns and tasty takoyaki was abruptly banished from her mind when she spied two men running from the building and in another direction away from her. One was obviously chasing the other, who was holding a large bowl of... porridge! That would do very nicely to start!

o-o-o

Following Ranma's path up the surprisingly gentle slope, Ukyo had quickly gained on her short opponent, her competitiveness, easily a match for Ranchan's hunger. She was within calling distance, when Ranma suddenly changed direction. She ran towards two figures that Ukyo had just noticed some hundred metres away.The chef quickly detoured toward the pair, one of them seemingly being pursued by, and escaping from the other. She didn't like to jump to conclusions, but it was pretty clear that the fleeing man was a thief. She groaned. Pops may have been a pain, but he'd instilled (or rather drilled) the tenets of a martial artist's honour into Ranma and herself for so long that it became decidingly difficult to ignore her duty in this situation.

She made a beeline for the thief, reaching him just as she heard her fiancée's high-pitched (and not exactly lady-like) cry.

"Gimme that!"This was punctuated with a flying kick that sent the thief sprawling. Blinking at the airborne man, Ukyo turned to the redhead who cheered, "Itadakimasu!" before wolfing down what Ukyo now realised was porridge. She smacked her forehead when she saw the other man, huffing as hedashed towards them.

"Now that we're gonna have to _pay_ for this, you may as well give me some," demanded Ukyo, grumpily wrestling the dish from Ranma's grasp.

"Ucchan?" questioned the surprised redhead as the chef began tucking into **her** porridge. "When did you...hey that's **mine!**" she whined. Ranma turned when she heard the other guy yelling at them in Mandarin. Seeing that Ukyo had already downed the bowl; she plucked it from her hands and presented it to the breathless, moustached man. "More please!" she intoned impishly, as Ukyo stepped beside her. The tall man responded by reaching forward with both hands and partially pulling open both of their gis.

"Thanks god! You're women," he announced in Japanese. He received stereo fists to the cranium as both girls shrieked in unison,

"Keep your hands to yourself, creep!" The blinked simultaneously and turned to face one another over the prostrated form of their would-be molester. Ranma began,

"Woah, that was..."

"Eerie," finished Ukyo, looking down at the unconscious form. "Who is...?"

"I'm pretty sure he works in the restaurant," Ranma informed the chef, indicating the building on the ridge. "I saw him running out of there after the other guy like a bat out of hell."

"Why'd the weirdo grab at us?" she grumbled, tightening the front of her gi.

"Beats me. After all, look at 'im, Ucchan. He's way too grizzled to be into perverted stuff. I mean, old guys can't be hentais, right?"

o-o-o

The sinister snicker caused even Fate to shudder... metaphorically.

o-o-o

"I guess," agreed the taller girl.

o-o-o

Genma paused in his munching; a bamboo branch having broken in half before he could bite into it, as he experienced a horrible foreboding. It soon passed, and he nervously resumed eating, wondering if going back to Japan was such a good idea after all.

o-o-o

"Thanks you, Kasumi," gratefully replied Soun Tendo, Master of the Tendo School of anything Goes Martial Arts. "It looks delicious! I can't wait to - "

"Oh dear, Father. You're chopsticks have broken," identified the seemingly demure girl. "Here," she said helpfully, "have another pair." Soun woodenly took the new chopsticks as he gulped back a terrible premonition. Wordlessly, he stood and returned to the family table with a bottle of sake.

o-o-o

"Let's get him back to the restaurant," suggested Ranma. "I'm still hungry," she moaned.

Soon, both girls were tucking into steaming bowls of ramen, in the otherwise empty 'Healthy Greens' restaurant. The bruise-sporting owner chatted amiably with the two. He didn't appear at all perturbed that they'd both knocked him for a loop several minutes earlier. In fact, he seemed more relieved than anything else. Ukyo questioned him as to why he seemed so cheerful.

"Ah miss, you see," he began in fluent Japanese, "that porridge you two ate was my restaurant's secret dish." He paused, and fished around his robes for a few moments, before presenting what looked like a short piece of string to the pair. "It was made with stock from this Dragon's Whisker."

"Dragon's Whisker?" repeated Ranma, though a mouthful of noodles. "What's that?"

"It is a powerful medicine used in Chinese herbal cooking," explained the owner. "It has no effect on women, but should a man eat it, his ambition will come true, and his joy will be assured."

"A man's ambition, huh?" mumbled Ranma quietly to herself, already moving unobtrusively towards a kettle on the countertop. Ukyo listened as the restauranter continued his story.

"Wars have been fought over the Dragon's Whisker," he said ominously, "causing the deaths of countless men." He smiled despite the sombre tale. "Thank goodness you're both women," he gushed, unaware of Ranma raising the steaming kettle above her head. "If you had been men..." His words died as a now male Ranma placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. "What?" blanched the owner. "You really are a man!"

"Cut the jokes," growled the seething, steam-shrouded Ranma. "Is this what you call a man's ambition?" he snarled, not having to point to the two metres of hair trailing from his scalp to the floor.

"Ranchan!" cried Ukyo, running to her fiancé's side. "Oh, god!" The owner's eyes widened as he looked at Ukyo.

"J-Jusenkyo?" he stuttered. She nodded frantically, as he grabbed a beaker and quickly threw it at Ranma, drenching the martial artist. "You see," he pointed out, "women are immune to," he was cut off by Ukyo's scream, as the chef's already abundant hair began to creep down his legs.

"Ucchan!" exclaimed Ranma, tripping on her train of hair like a red carpet as she tried to move toward Ukyo.

"Oh no, not the both of you!" groaned the owner as he reached for the still half-filled kettle behind the redhead. "Stand away," he ordered the short girl as he as he tossed the contents onto the struggling Ukyo. Calmed slightly, now that she was back in her uncursed form, the chef quieted down as she sat amidst a bedding of her own hair - the weights she had tied into her braid spread about her - and collected herself enough to ask,

"What the hell...?" she gulped and Ranma picked up the question.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded the angry redhead, her petite form nearly lost within a tangledmane of scarlet tresses. Seeing the two cursed martial artists quieten, the restaurateur explained again,

"I told you both thatthe Dragon's Whisker is a powerful medicine. It is used to cure baldness in already afflicted men. As you heard, it has no effect on women. But should a man who is not bald take the whisker, its potency will shed him of all of his existing hair," he finished, his voice nearly cracking.

"Then how do we cure it?" asked Ukyo from the floor, as Ranma leaned down and squeezed her hand. The proprietor shook his head with finality.

"I am sorry, but there is no cure." Seeing the two girls about to react angrily, he held up his hand in a placating gesture. "However, the effects can be sealed until the potency wears off."

"How long will that take?" asked Ranma warily, but suddenly feeling a lot better.

"I would suppose a few months, maybe six," he answered succinctly.

"Great," said Ranma happily, as the small girl awkwardly helped her taller companion to her feet. "So, how do you seal it?"

"With this," he answered holding up the Dragon's Whisker, and handing it to Ranma. "Once you tie your hair off with the whisker, the original effect will be sealed." Ranma nodded, 'hmphing' her understanding, as Ukyo looked at the tall man expectantly. "I am very sorry, miss, but that is the only whisker I have in stock." The two martial artists blanched.

"Can't you get another one?" asked Ukyo.

"Indeed I can," he answered noticing both if them visibly calming down. "I'll be leaving on a trip to my suppliers within the month. If you wish, you two can accompany me, and acquire another whisker."

"Uh huh," nodded Ranma, "and where's your supplier at?"

"At a village called Joketsuzoku, several daysjourney from..." he trailed off as he noticed both martial artists had facefaulted. Recovering, a vexed Ranma asked,

"Is there maybe, I dunno, anywhere _**else**_ you can get another of these things?" indicating thestring she held.

"I'm sorry, but the Dragon's Whisker is a rare and very precious item. In fact, I would appreciate your word that you will return that whisker you're holding once your use for it as a seal has passed." He fumbled about and found a pair of large scissors. "If you'll please follow me outside?"

Twenty minutes of shearing later, the pair now sported thigh-length hair; Ranma's much longer than before.

"So I just tie my hair like this?" asked Ranma as she began braiding her hair.

"And what do you suppose you're doing, Ranchan?" inquired Ukyo, raising a slender eyebrow.

"Well, I'm," began the redhead sheepishly, as Ukyo glared at her. "I mean it's not as though you'll need the whisker, 'cos you're a girl and all," sputtered Ranma weakly.

"Uh-huh," replied the brunette dryly, "and when it rains?" Ranma sweated.

"Well, I'm sure this guy has an umbrella he could spare us..." Ukyo's hand reached to draw her spatula, but the restaurant owned interjected.

"You two are in quite the dilemma," he said, ponderously twirling his moustache. "But I think I have something that might help." He disappeared behind the counter and into another room. The Japanese pair heard mumbled swearing in several languages as well the sound of boxes and drawers being rifled through. Some minutes later he returned with a triumphant smirk, a small box in his hands. "I knew I had some left," he said more to himself than the girls.

"What's that?" asked Ranma cautiously as he set the small wooden container before them. He raised a hand to the air in an exultant pose, and proclaimed,

"This contains several bars of Jusenkyo Waterproof Soap!" His pose wavered when their reaction was stereo, confused blinks. He deflated, and explained, "It is a product that one can use that will prevent a Jusenkyo victim's curse from triggering." The girls gasped. 'That's better', he thought, a little smugly. "It works by creating a tiny waterproof layer around the user's skin so that water can't touch you."

Ranma and Ukyo both stared in awe at the box. This wasn't such a bad day after all. Suddenly, they high-fived and engulfed the owner in a double-bear hug. The man gasped, or tried to, as he felt several blood vessels, perhaps all of them, about to rupture. He was saved, as they simultaneously released him, as Ranma gruffly thanked him,then announced,

"This is perfect, Ucchan! We can use the soap to get rid of these curses in the meantime, and 'cos you'll be back to normal, you won't need the whisker." She happily declared, "It's about time we caught a break!"

"That would be so," agreed the owner, "if the soap were at all reliable." The celebrations died instantly.

"Come again?" muttered the redhead dangerously. Ukyo was slightly less unsettled, asking

"It's not reliable?" With a sigh, he elucidated.

"Actually, under any circumstances other than being cursed, it is remarkably reliable. But, seeing as it's made specifically for curse victims, its value becomes somewhat muted, wouldn't you agree?"

"Did you understand any of that, Ucchan?" asked the addled Saotome. Ukyo replied with a blank stare. "Me neither." The proprietor frowned,

"How long have you two been cursed?" They told him. "Only a matter of days?" A depressed susurrus escaped him. It seemed he was destined to be the bearer of bad news today, much like that annoying Jusenkyo Guide. "Something you two, and any cursed person will eventually realise, is that you are essentially a water magnet. This is part of the magic of the curse, I'm afraid, constantly trying to trigger itself. I should warn you that you'll probably find yourselves being splashed at the most inopportune of times."

"Like when?" asked Ranma warily.

"You'll see for yourselves soon enough," he replied sympathetically. "Nothing is the world is truly waterproof, but this soap will make you extremely water-resistant. That is where the problem lies."

"Whad'ya mean?"

"The soap _will_ make you water resistant, and on any normal person, nothing short of standing outside all day in the rain will wash it off. But for a cursed individual, taking a stroll equates to the same thing. You _will_ be splashed repeatedly, even more so than if you weren't wearing the soap, as the curse compensates to try and trigger itself." Ukyo's furrowed her brow prettily,

"So, the soap is only good as a temporary, preventative measure."

"And considerin' what you said about water splashing at inopportune times," added Ranma banefully, "the soap is pretty much useless to a cursed person." He nodded. 'At least they were a bright pair of young girls. Well, half the time at any rate,' he supposed.

"And figurin' that only someone with a curse would have a use for the soap in the first place," she clenched her fists and continued darkly, becoming steadily angrier with the owner for getting her hopes up, "that makes the soap completely friggin' _worthless!_ " The moustached man held up his hands appeasingly.

"Not entirely," he intoned suggestively. Ranma narrowed her eyes.

"Go on."

"While the Jusenkyo victim attracts water in their uncursed form, there is no such allurement while in their cursed state," he clarified. A moment later, Ukyo's eyes boggled, as she tried and failed to stifle a giggle. Ranma squinted at her companion's reaction. 'What was that about?' Ukyo stared in amused wonder as she practically saw the gears turning in Ranma's head.

'So the cursed state didn't attract water like the uncursed form...and here we have soap that can make you waterproof, er, resistant... and only one Dragon's Whisker... but we can't keep Ukyo from changin' to a guy... or me from changing into a girl... only one of us can... but we can keep me...' Ranma's mouth opened in a perfect 'O'.

"**No... freaking...WAY!**"

Some time later, Ukyo and the restaurateur were chatting amiably about seafood preparation, having long since tuned out the frantic redhead's continuous loud protestations.

"Oh yeah, I meant to ask you," began the chef. "How come you know all this? About Jusenkyo and curses, I mean?" she elucidated."And the soap? Are you cursed too?" She quickly amended, "If that's not too intrusive?"

"Of course not, young lady," he answered good-naturedly. "It's only prudent to have knowledge of the magics I come across in my work. After all, I pass near Jusenkyo whenever I travel to Joketsuzoku for supplies." She nodded, but wasn't really satisfied with his answer. "But there is more," he continued, and she perked up. "Like you, my niece's son also has a Jusenkyo curse. That's why I had the leftover soap. I'd acquired it at my niece's request several month's ago, but the lad wouldn't wear it." At Ukyo's unasked question, he expounded, "As it turned out, he _liked_ his cursed form," he finished with a shudder. Raising an eyebrow, the brunette asked incredulously,

"Really? What does he turn into?" The tall man shook his head tiredly.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I'm not doing it!" screeched the indignant girl with a particularly powerful displacement of air.

"It's either this, or you get to follow Pops into the ranks of the folically challenged," spelled out Ukyo calmly."It's only until we can get cured. A month or two won't hurt, right?"

"Six months," corrected Ranma coolly.

"Not so, young lady," said the owner. Ranma cringed at the epithet. "As I said, I'll be restocking within the month. I do feel partially responsible for your situation -"

"_**Partially?**_"

Ignoring the outburst, he continued.

"I can give you the restaurant's phone number, and when you have returned home you can ring me and tell me where you're staying." During his chat with Ukyo, she let him know that they rarely stayed in one place for long. "I'll send you on another Dragon's Whisker, which you can return with the first, once the effects of the porridge have worn off the both of you." Ukyo tried to placate her stubborn fiancée.

"Like I said, Ranchan. It's just for a couple of months." Seeing the redhead was still fuming, a recent memory shot into the forefront of the chef's mind. "Do this Ranchan, and it'll cover your forfeit," she said sneakily. Ranma's brow crinkled in confusion for a moment, but her eyes soon widened into two shiny blue spheres. She grimaced, and grabbed the soap from the old man.

"It'll cover it and _then some_," muttered Ranma unhappily. "Ucchan, I'm _**so**_ gonna get you for...What!"

"Just..." she wheezed, "You look so... _**cute**_ grumbling like that!" Ranma's nostrils flared, and she seethed even more.

"Where's the bathroom?" she demanded, when Ukyo fell to the floor guffawing uproariously.

o-o-o

o-o-o o-o-o

o-o-o o-o-o o-o-o

Author's Note: The site continues to remove random spaces from my chapters. I can't catch them all.


	7. Curiosity Killed The Panda

**Chapter 6 –Curiosity Killed the Panda**

The night sky was dully lit by ubiquitous streetlamps.They hummed as though chanting in reverence to the uncommonly placid urban sprawl. A rare serene air had befallen the city of Xining. A calmness washed over the hushed streets, only sporadically populated now by the occasional foraging, nocturnal animal.

This tranquillity did not extend into a certain, dingy hotel room in the Chinese city. "Damnit, Pop!" groused a weary and now irate redhead, swiping at an thickly built martial artist with her thigh length braid, the wrist-thick stream whipping just above the crouching Saotome. "Stop tyrin' ta steal my soap!"

"You ungrateful boy!" growled the large man, aiming a haymaker at his diminutive, yet now alert opponent, who lithely evaded the blow. "Hoarding a cure to yourself like that! Have I thought you nothing of munificence?"

"Munica-what?" Clenching a fist, the girl blared, "I told ya, it ain't a cure!" her mind drifting back to the events of the past week.

o-o-o

"I don't feel any different, 'sides still bein' a girl that is," admitted Ranma as she stepped back into the restaurant's main room.

"Let's test it," suggested Ukyo (a little too eagerly in Ranma's opinion), looking meaningfully toward a nearby kettle. She'd been waiting anxiously to see if the soap would really work.

"Okay," nodded the shorter girl uncertainly. She turned to the restaurateur, with whom she was still angry, and ordered tersely, "Just you be ready with cold water if it don't work." She almost hoped it didn't.

"If you applied the soap thoroughly, it should work," commented the moustached man. Ranma frowned and huffed,

"What, ya think I dunno how to wash myself? Honestly!" she grumbled, rolling her eyes, until she noticed Ukyo snickering again. "Yeees?" she drawled grumpily. Ukyo didn't reply save biting her lip and looking Ranma up and down. Raising an eyebrow, Ranma glanced down at herself, and observed her hands, which were planted in little fists on her hips in the classic feminine stance of reproach. "Gaah!" she shrieked, pulling her hands away, and tightly folding her arms. She was beginning to _really_ hope that the soap didn't work.

"Okay, here goes, Ranchan," Ukyo warned as she upended the kettle spilling its contents of her fiancée, who cringed in macabre anticipation. "Woah, I guess..." the chef trailed off ominously.

"What is it, Ucchan?" came the concerned, high pitched reply. Ranma groaned as she looked forlornly down at her five-foot frame.

"I guess... I've got me a girlfriend for a while!" proclaimed the brunette with a giggle.

'At least she wasn't a guy when she said that', thanked the redhead.

o-o-o

The cursed pair left after purchasing some supplies from the restaurant, which they packed along with Ranma's special soap.

"I can't believe after everything, the old geezer charged us for supplies," grumbled the particularly cantankerous girl to the world.

"At least I got us a discount," placated Ukyo. She had experience in bargaining, after all, she couldn't trust Pops as far as she could throw him (which admittedly, was pretty far), when it came to dealing with cash and supplies back home.

It was the time after she had questioned him about some receipts he thought he'd hidden; when he had tried to convince her that he was working on an experimental new sake okonomiyaki, thathad pretty much eroded the last bit of confidence she had in the old man not put himself ahead of the business. They had done far better since she'd taken over those duties three years ago. Heck, if they weren't always on the move, she felt that they could make a killing with an abiding restaurant. But, for the time being she supposed, they'd have to make due with the yatai like they'd always done.

She wondered if it was being kept in good condition. Some friends of her family back in Tottori had agreed to look after it, but not being Kuonji's themselves she didn't feel like they'd take the care and time to do more than let it sit idle gathering dust. She supposed that that was better than they misusing it after all.

"Wish that's all we got," replied Ukyo's self-pitying companion. Sighing, the chef gained her fiancée's attention.

"You know, I meant what I said back there, Ranchan," she said seriously. Ranma snorted,

"What? You mean the 'girlfriend' crack? That was _reeeal _funny, Ucchan," she commented caustically.

"It wasn't meant to be."

Ranma favoured her with a flat stare.

"Oh, so maybe it _was_, a little."

"Whatever," interrupted the redhead.

"But it was also true!"

Scowling, said redhead asked her 'what the hell she meant'. Ukyo grabbed the smaller girl by the shoulders, and looked directly at her. "You're going to be stuck like this for at least a month Ranchan. Full-time. That means you're going to have to start acting the part, at least as far as some areas go," she amended earnestly.

"Like what?" the petite martial artist asked cautiously. "If you think I'm gonna start runnin' around wearin stupid - "

"That's exactly what I mean, Ranchan! You were about to say dresses, weren't you?" She took Ranma's silence as confirmation. "Ranchan, school uniforms aside, when was the last time you saw me in a dress?"

Ranma's eyes widened behind her thick red bangs. She had been about to answer, when she realized that she couldn't recall Ukyo wearing a dress. When she wasn't wearing a gi, like now, of her okonomiyaki chef's outfit, she always preferred sweatshirts and slacks. Reflecting on it, Ranma noticed that she'd never truly considered it before. Sure, Ukyo did have to wear a uniform, but once that came off, it was straight into a gi, or t-shirt. 'But that meant... oh my', thought Ranma as something finally clicked in her mind.

She gulped and answered Ukyo honestly,

"I really don't remember, Ucchan," seemingly coddled. Ukyo nodded assuredly, asking,

"And does that make me any less a girl?"

Ranma contemplated the chef standing before her. She stared, quite tempted to punch herself. After all, how is a person supposed to explain that they'd only _really_ realised that their best friend was a girl after she'd been cursed to turn into a man? Its not everyday one has an epiphany, and most people aren't exactly prepared to deal with them (noting that in this set of circumstances, some might consider Ranma's epiphany to be less an intuitive revelation, and more a discontinuation of stupidity. But one must digress).

Ranma had always (okay, almost always) at least intellectually known that his companion was a girl. Somehow, he'd never made the connection of Ukyo Kuonji technically being a girl to his best friend Ucchan being one.

Despite evidence to the contrary, Ranma did understand the significance of the commitment involved in being engaged. And like a winning streak in Tetris, more pieces were falling into place, and Ranma found she didn't exactly mind the picture they were forming.

'However,' she pondered evilly.

Realising that the time she made Ucchan wait for her answer would only flummox the brunette furthur, Ranma decided it was time to begin living up toher promises of revenge. She flashed the chef a dazzling smile. The effort of holding back her laughter reddening her features, she answered "No, Ucchan," smiling coyly. "No, it definitely doesn't."

Ukyo blink-blinked. She had been expecting that answer (even though Ranchan seemed to take her sweet time about it). She hadn't been expecting it to be accompanied with a slightly blushing Ranma sporting a secretive smile, as she stared at the ground. Still holding the redhead, Ukyo tapped her fingers giddily on Ranma's shoulder blades, and stuttered,

"Eh, t-thanks, Ranchan." Ranma, rolling her shoulders in response to the not unpleasant sensation , looked up and beamed back,

"You're welcome!" The chef was glad for the support of the younger Saotome's shoulders. "Ucchan, you okay?" The chef nodded shakily, melting internally at the concern in Ranma's soprano voice. "Anyway, you were sayin' somethin' about 'acting the part'?" Shaking away her addled thoughts, Ukyo responded,

"L-like I was saying, Ranchan, you need to behave differently now that you're going to be like this," she indicated Ranma's chest, "for a while. For example," she trailed off.

"Uh huh?" prodded Ranma brightly. Ukyo didn't know what had caused Ranchan's sudden good humour and complacency (though she had a suspicion that she hoped was true), but she was thankful for it.

"You should consider wearing a t-shirt beneath your gi's jacket," she answered, pointedly glancing at the half-open white garment the redhead sported. "After all, it does tend to gape a bit when we spar."

Ranma shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, is that all?" she asked casually, but relieved. "Sure, I'll -"

"And a sports bra, too," added the taller of the pair. Ranma gagged.

"What? No way! That's for -"

"Girls?" she supplied.

"Yes!"

"Newsflash,"Ukyo replied flatly. "That what you _are_ for the time being," she added at Ranma's disgruntled look. "Listen dummy, in a few weeks, you'll thank me. Training as hard as we do without support is not pleasant. Trust me," she finished levelly.

"But -"

"But nothing, Ranchan. Do you think these," she poked Ranma's breast, "don't make a difference? I've already seen you grimacing after training when you're a girl. You want that for who knows how long?" She looked down to realise that she was still jabbing Ranma's chest, who was blushing crimson. "Er..." she pulled away her hand and joined her fiancée in reddening. "Okay?"

"Ucchan," began Ranman, her blush receding as her stubborn streak asserted itself, "if it's the discomfort,"

"Pain," corrected Ukyo carefully.

"Pain," rectified Ranma, "that you're worried about, it don't matter. I'm a martial artist. I can stand a little -" She didn't complete her sentence, interrupted as she was by Ukyo shaking her bodily.

"Listen, buster! We're not going to be out in the wilderness forever," she exclaimed waving a hand at their surroundings, "and do you plan to stop training when we hit the next town?"

"Course not!" replied Ranma appalled with the suggestion.

"And do you think I'm gonna let _**my fiancée **_bounce around and give any pervert nearby who deigns to watch, a free show!" Shaking her head profusely, her long braid shaking about like wildfire, Ranma mumbled something incoherent. "Do you think so, Ranchan?" asked Ukyo again. Another mumble. "Speak up."

"...No," came the sullen reply.

"So, you'll wear a bra?"

"...Yes," she answered in a tiny voice. Ukyo nodded, satisfied.

"Good. I'll get you some when I'm buying your stockings."

"**What?**"

"Just kidding," winked the brunette at her fiancée's explosion. Ranma growled back as only a five-foot redhead can.

o-o-o

"What'll we do about Pops, Sugar?" wondered Ukyo, as they ambled at a slow pace, giving them time to discuss the situation, still heading down the hill towards the camp. "He's going to ask questions. Especially when he sees you don't turn back into a guy. And what about this?" she asked indicating her own and Ranma's thigh-length tresses. "Pops isn't the most observant guy when it comes personal grooming, but even he'll notice how long our hair has gotten."

"I don't see why we didn't just cut it back'ta normal," groused her companion. Ukyo made a defensive gesture.

"No way. I love this hair!" she exclaimed sunnily, cradling its weighted length in her arms. "It's just a pity I have to keep this whisker tied into the braid," she mumbled, fingering the offending mythical potion.

"What about me?" came the complaint.

"Don't worry. I'll do your hair when we get back," grinned the chef. Ranma looked to the heavens.

"It is to laugh."Sighing,she asked,"Why didn't we just cut my hair shorter?"

"And me miss a chance to style such silky locks?" Ukyo replied in mock jealousy.

"Would you _please_ be serious?"

The brunette chortled as her short fiancée grumbled in that cute manner she was becoming accustomed to.

"Seriously though, Ranchan. With our hair at this length, we'll be able to go at that spatula-braid style for real. Andthat_ will_ be fun," she smiled. Ranma's eyebrows rose as she grinned,

"Oh yeah. I guess I was just too ticked off before. I never thought about that. Good thinkn', Ucchan," she complimented.

"Plus, I still can't wait to do you hair," she snickered. Ranma groaned.

By the time they reached camp, they had decided on a strategy for dealing with the elder Saotome. If Genma asked about it, they'd be truthful. Save revealing the seal of the Dragon's Whisker was in fact _another_ Whisker which Ukyo wore on her hair. Neither teenager had any doubt that the old man would have many misgivings about stealing the whisker for himself if he knew. Nonetheless, both planned to remain silent about the whole matter unless Genma brought it up first. The waterproof soap, they resolved, would have to be kept secret at all costs.

_Where'd you two go?_ Signed the panda-fied Master of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, as the two hauled their packs closer. _And what do you have there?_ He asked with an oddly suspicious glint in his surreally intelligent panda-eyes. Ukyo grunted as she opened her pack and retrieved the ingredients to the beef bowl they'd be having for dinner. The panda's reaction washed away any fear of his immediately noticing something amiss.

'At least until the food was gone', Ukyo amended mentally.

The again human Genma patted his belly contentedly, as he played with a toothpick in his other hand. "Ah, Ukyo, my boy. That was dee-lish," he cajoled. Ukyo frowned from where she was putting away her dish, and looked at herself curiously. Strange. She hadn't turned into a guy unnoticed to herself (which she conceded had happened a couple of times). She shrugged it off, and spoke quietly to her fiancée, as she grabbed her twin spatulas,

"Ranma, you want to go and, y'know?" The redhead nodded, mouthing back 'sure', before speaking aloud.

"Pop, Ucchan n'me are gonna go ahead and train a little." Genma nodded approvingly, still in the afterglow of his meal. Knowing the answer, Ranma asked if he'd like to join them. After his negative reply, Ranma's eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about eating any of our supplies while we're gone."Genma took on an aghast mien of surprise at this questioning of his character, wailing

"Oh, my disrespectful son doesn't even trust his dear father! Who has sacrificed everything for him. Who has put all his blood and sweat into making him a suitable heir to the School. Oh, my thankless son!" Genma continued crying crocodile tears in this vein for another few minutes. Finding his tear ducts strained (he never could compare to Tendo), he pulled himself together and looked up, expecting his charges to have left so he could help himself to some supplies. Instead, he found an angrily glaring teenager. Her unsettling resemblance to another significant redhead in his life did nothing to hearten him, as she (somehow) seemed to tower above him.

"Are you _quite _done?" she asked condescendingly with folded arms. He nodded, fighting off the urge to say 'Yes, dear'. "Good. We'd _better _not find anything missing when we get back. If you're really still hungry, why don't'cha turn into a panda an' eat some shrubs or something?" He nodded again. "Anyway," she exhaled, "me and Ucchan are goin' on ahead." Suiting action to word, the two young martial artists headed off, Genma eyeing them warily.

Two hours later, the pair returned, a distinctly distaff glow about the two as they happily recalled the events of their sparring with one another. "Who'da thought my hair would have supported you like that?" Ranma wondered as she pondered a particularly enjoyable sequence in their spar. The weights end of Ukyo's hair had somehow gotten tangled with the cap Ranma had placed at the end of her own hair for the fight during a swipe that Ukyo had deflected. This left the two tangled and varying from fighting back to back, to extreme close quarters with the battle spatulas. Due to superior reach andexperience with the spatula, Ukyo had been coming out the victor.But Ranma, being the stronger of the two, decided to swing Ukyo bodily away off the ground in hopes of dislodging the tangled braids, but had instead sent her larger fiancée spinning above her in a dizzying circle. Never one to allow a little disorientation to come in the way of sparring, Ukyo had continued to dual with her opponent matching spatula for spatula. The real fun began when Ukyo landed and sent Ranma skyward with a mighty heft of her own braid. This littlebout of tit- for-tat had gone on for twenty minutes. Until, suffering from severe cricks in their necks, and almost uncontrollable laughter, they decided to end their stalemate and declare the match a draw.

"I know," breathed back Ukyo whimsically; "Maybe I'll start calling you Rapunchan," she laughed at her own joke. Ranma quirked her lips in puzzlement, completely missing the reference. Ukyo rolled her eyes at this. "As in 'Rapunzel'." Ranma nodded, then frowned,

"No idea."

"She was a fairytale princess," winked Ukyo. Ranma shook her head.

"Pity _our _tale resembles something H.P. Lovecraft would'a written while high."

o-o-o

They made good time across Qinghai, and would soon pass into the Gansu province. They had come from the south when they had traveled into Qinghai, so decided that leaving China via a different path was prudent.There was no reason to aid Shampoo's tracking of the group.

They were two days the province's capital when Ukyo and Ranma left Genma to spar alone again. He hadn't commented on their hair length at all, and they had made sure not to draw any attention to it. He did grumble a few times about Ranma remaining a girl, but she explained it away by saying she needed to train to get used to her new body. This time however, Genma decided that he'd perhaps slacked off a little in his own training regime the past week, and decided to follow his two dedicated (no doubt thanks to his influence) charges.

As he approached the two still unseen, he was taken aback. They were practicing that ridiculous style they'd developed together that utilized their hair as a weapon. Of course, Genma appreciated any style which advocated the use any part of the surroundings or body to one's maximum advantage – it was a core tenet of Anything Goes after all – yet somehow this particular style made the bald martial artist feel bitter for some incomprehensible reason. He stared at their braids as they snaked about like aerial vipers. Since when had his son's hair been... Hmm. This bore further investigation. He got as close as he could, still avoiding detection, and listened.

o-o-o

Damn it, did those twoonly ever talk about martial arts? He should be proud and all, but still, they were keeping a secret from him. He had an odd feeling that it might be of significance to him in some fashion, as he pictured his son's flowing locks twirling about at will during the spar. He woke with a start himself from the daydream, which had shifted to he himself sparring with a head full of long silky black hair. The two youths returned to camp. He was about to question them, when they wordlessly unrolled their sleeping bags and went promptly to sleep.

Grumbling, he decided to confront the two on the origins of Ranma's extra hair in the morning.

o-o-o

Dedication to the Art, Genma liked, dedication that led to Ukyo and Ranma tiring themselves out to the point where he was the first up and as such had to make breakfast, he most certainly did not. Grousing to himself as he heat up some water, and prepared the few ingredients that Ukyo (such an ungrateful child) hadalloted him, Genma decided that in addition to questioning him, he'd spar with the boy - the **BOY_ - _**this morning. He poured some water from the heating pan over the fire into a bowl and moved to his boy's sleeping bag. Uncovering him, Genma grimaced at his female form, and quickly tossed the bowl's contents over him.

His son was immediately awake sputtering and complaining, and other than the fact that his son was still his daughter, Genma wasn't surprised. "Geez Pop, what'cha do that for?" **She** wailed, as **she** sat up. "You know how long it takes for that sleeping bag to get dry again?"

Genma blinked before fainting. He was a dead man.

o-o-o

Growling at his own foolishness, Genma tucked into his breakfast. Jumping to horrible conclusions and fainting, he would have been ashamed if his old buddy Tendo had been here to see it. The explanation Ranma and Ukyo had given him when he awoke and asked about Ranma's long hair _had_ made a modicum of sense, but it seemed Ranma still hadn't realized that he'd been woken with a splash of _hot_ water. Genma didn't mention it, hoping that maybe the whole thing had been a horrible dream. Yes, that was it: a horrible dream. He'd tell the boy to turn back, and then he'd be a man among men, and no katanas would become intimate with Genma's jugular in the near or far future. Liking this plan, Genma loudly declared over the cooking fire's remains,

"Boy, you've been a girl long enough. Change back so we can have a proper man to man spar."

Ranma glowered at him.

"Didn't ya hear anything we just said, Pop? If I change back, that dumb whisker's effects will make my hair grow 'til I'm _bald_. I may wanna carry on the school and all, but that don't mean I wanna look like ya. C'mon Ucchan," she said finishing her breakfast quickly, "let's go ahead and spar again." The pair promptly left Genma to the rest of his meal.

When they were far enough away, with no hills or inclines around, Ranma paused. "Ucchan, I think Pop knows I can't turn back."

"What do you mean?" she asked, worried.

"Well, this mornin', right before Pops fainted, he splashed me to wake me up."

"Ranchan,"she spoke reassuringly."I know. You've been complaining about that all morning." The apprehensive look in Ranma's eyes did not help her confidence that everything was okay. The shorter girl was shaking her head.

"Ucchan, I think he used _warm_ water. I was just so out of it that it didn't click that that was important, you know?"

"Do you think he knows about the soap?" Ranma shook her head again.

"I don't think so. I mean if we had a 'cure' in hand, do you think he'd waste a second in getting his paws on it?" Ukyo nodded. Ranma had a good point.

"So, what do we do in the meantime? If he suspects..."

Genma relaxed, letting loose one of the 'sealed' techniques. Decloaking himself from the Umi-senken, he moved away undetected. He had some soap to find.

o-o-o

"Yatta!"

"What the?" screeched Ranma as she and Ukyo were returned to camp to find Genma standing in a victory pose over Ranma's pack. Genma gulped when he noticed his furious son-turned-daughter.

"Now son, this isn't what it looks like..."

"Really," drawled Ranma, "cos to me it looks like someone's funeral!"

"Eep!"

o-o-o

Lying back in her bed in the hotel room, Ranma thanked Ukyo, who had clobbered Genma with her spatula before his latest attempt to steal the soap paid off.

"You're going to have to do something about this, Ranchan," mumbled Ukyo tiredly, "He'll just keep trying to steal it otherwise. Regardless of whether we tell him it isn't a cure or not. And you know Pops," she nodded at his prone, twitching form, "once he _really_ wants something..." she trailed off when she saw the nascent smile illuminated by streetlight sneaking in through the half shuttered window, appear on her fiancée's face. "You havesomething in mind, don't you?"

"Yep."

"Do share, 'girlfriend'," she snickered. The remark didn't dent Ranma's smile which had graduated from sly to sinister.

"I'm gonna let him have it," the redhead answered wickedly. Ranma explained, and the chef grew a smile as nasty as her fiancée's.

"That is evil, Ranchan... Can I help?"

o-o-o

As good a tracker as Shampoo was, she was under no illusions. Her husband's head start was too great. It was unlikely she'd catch his group again until they reached their destination, which she knew was Japan. She also knew that Japan had a population several thousand times that of Joketsuzoku. Having some semblance of where in Japan her husband and the redheaded slattern were headed would be most useful. This is why she found it very fortunate when she happened across a heavily muscled boy who fit Ling-Ling and Lung-Lung's description of the group's erstwhile travelling companion, right down to the bandanna.

All she had to do was question the male, and find where in Japan her husband resided, go there, kill the baggage, woo her husband and bring him home, and accept her tribe's adulation for upholding the Laws of the Joketsuzoku. Simple...

But why did she feel that ominous shiver run down her spine?


	8. Object Lessons Part 1

**Chapter 7 – Object Lessons - Part One**

Oneajar slat was sufficient to allow a minute stream of light to dance its ways across the frowzy room. Like the eyes of a single portrait on a wall, the little invading ray inevitably found its way to the exposed eye line of the vulnerable figure that lay prostrate on the floor. The beam sought not the tanning of the eyelids of the motionless martial artist, but the roasting of the frangible organs that lay behind them. Before the eager shaft could prove that not all gigantic fiery heavenly bodies of flaring gas have purely benign intentions, the sprawled form gradually sat up. He loosed a grunt less indicative of rising from a refreshing night's sleep, than say, recovering from spatula induced unconsciousness.

Genma groaned as he became aware not only of the throbbing resulting from cranium/blunt instrument interaction, but of the congenital soreness and aching that results from spending one's night face down in the 'promise-pose' position. It was a wonder that his fingers hadn't cramped. Grimacing, Genma alternated between patting gently at his abused skull, and inefficiently fumbling around in search of his wayward spectacles.

A little over a minute of myopic prodding resulted in success. The elder Saotome groggily replaced his glasses and glared balefully at the softly breathing form of his 'son', loosely curled into a one-hundred pound ball beneath her musty blanket. Still scowling he prepared to snort disgustedly. For a true snort should not be performed on the fly, but requires preparation and technique, heck, Tendo's remarkable 'Demon Head' ki illusionary 'attack', was in essence, simply an insanely exaggerated snort. He aimed at his rhythmically snoring offspring.

Snoring?

His eyes focused opportunistically. With a grin betraying but a fraction of his experience and competence in such pursuits, Genma began to lightly pad his way to his son's large travelling pack.

He had the pack partially open when he_ felt_ a floorboard being thread upon, immediately followed by a hiss. "Pops, catch!" Genma knew that for his own body's sake he'd best do just that. The man spun with a speed belying his massive girth. In the same motion, he confidently plucked the spinning spatula out of the air, just in time to use it to block Ukyo's downward stroke with her own weapon. The brunette grinned as Genma parried her second swipe and, with jarring quickness, swept low at her feet. She leaped above the attack as best she could in the confines of the hotel room, while making as little noise as possible. Ukyo grasped the ceiling desperately with her free arm, avoiding Genma's following uppercut. "Come on, Pops! Granny Kuonji could've dodged that attack," she blustered in false display of bravado, attempting to rile up her larger opponent. Genma was having none of it. He silently sidestepped her attempted landing lunge on his head. Ukyo recovered and nimbly rolled behind Genma. The girl lashed out with a flowing back kick, which he somehow twisted his way around to use his own near forgotten spatula to disarm the surprised chef. Her spatula clanged softly on the dust-cushioned floor.

The bald martial artist grinned cockily as he leveled Ukyo's second heavy spatula at her. When it came tosparring, Ukyo knew that Pops preferred to use the weapon as more of a defensive tool (not that he was unable to use just about any weapon to attack with great proficiency) opting to rely on his body to do the attacking. Despite this, once he'd disarmed an opponent, they were in a world of trouble if happened to be holding a weapon - just as Ukyo recognized she was in now.

She had to give it to Pops. He'd been waking both Ranma and she at pre-dawn hours for sparring as long as they could both remember, and yet when they returned the favour (which they'd quite taken quite avidly to in the past few years), he invariably turned the tables on them and administered a lesson limning why they were the students and he the teacher.

Genma made to thrust the hefty weapon straight at Ukyo. She dodged left to avoid being run through; too late deducing that he'd merely feinted. Shedesperately brought up both arms to block the incoming punch as best as she could. His right fist crashed heavily into the young chef (let it never be said that Genma Saotome pulled his punches). Ukyo cushioned the blow with a back spring into the hotel wall, from which she launched herself at her surprised foe. Unfortunately for the teen, surprise does not necessarily equal lack of readiness. Genma discarded the weapon he held and adroitly fell backward into a roll.She gasped ashe used her own momentum to extemporaneously tossher beyond him on a direct course for the room's single rickety window.

Genma wasn't the only one caught unawares when a red blur intercepted the airborne okonomiyaki chef. The burly fighter briskly righted himself, and adopted the deceptively casual stance associated with the Anything Goes School. Rather than the anticipated barrage, Ranma treated her companions to a tremendous yawn, still holding Ukyo in her small arms. Genma couldn't help but grin internally at the near comical spectacle of the bantam figure cradling the much larger Ukyo to her chest.

Panting rapidly, her heavy breathing not entirely due to her reveille-spar, Ukyo gulped "Th-thanks, Ranchan." Ranma blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and looked down at the chef she held. With her reduced stature, Ranma was unable to keep Ukyo's braid from snaking its way down to the floor, so she carefully avoided threading on it as she moved to the bed to lay the chef down.

"S'no prob, Ucchan," replied Ranma modestly, as the brunette sat up. "You'd have done the same to me – I mean, _for_ me! I mean..." Ukyo giggled as to the redhead's dismay, Ranma began to blush visibly despite the dim illumination of the room. Turning to Genma, who was still expectantly awaiting an assault, the taller girl cheerfully commented,

"Great spar, Pops," stretching, audibly cracking a few joints in the process. "I've got to take a shower now," she added with a smile that was far too sweet in Genma's opinion, as she headed towards the dubious WC that contained the room's shower. The large martial artist glanced at his child in unconcealed readiness. Genma winced a little, then a lot, at the calculating expression he found there.

He... she was giving him The Look.

Until those confounded springs, Genma hadn't had to suffer through The Look in over ten years. Unfortunately, a decade hadn't served to dull the razor's edge of utter dread that The Lookunerringly sliced into the bald martial artist. Genma felt somewhat like an earthworm before a sparrow... No, reconsidered the elder Saotome. That analogy was insufficient. He felt likean earthworm before a six-year old. At least the bird wouldn't prolong the torture.

Feeling significantly less sure of himself, Genma croaked,

"Aren't you going to spar, er...boy?" Ranma frowned. "B-but of course you don't have to if you don't want to."

"I'm surprised you haven't woken up the entire hotel with your first spar," she commented flatly. Genma began visibly sweating.

"B-but Ukyo started..."

"I don't care who started it. You're supposed to be an adult, aint'cha?" she asked plaintively. The lapse into rougher speech helped quell Genma's conditioned terror a little, but not enough to interrupt his admonishment. "And I don't wanna get kicked outta here before I can shower." She sighed, as though resigning herself to doing something distasteful. "Now, c'mere, I've got something to give you." She motioned him to move closer to her pack. The Look transformed into The Glare as she discovered that 'someone' had already tampered with her pack. Genma had to bite his lip as a squeak of fright fought to escape him. He had been following like a scolded schoolboy and nearly melted under the piercing gaze of the choleric redhead. Ranma rummaged through her pack, quickly examining the contents to ensure everything was as it should have been. Producing a particular box, she presented Genma with an undecorated blue bar of soap. He gulped.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, that's the waterproof soap." Genma stood dumbfounded, as she nonchalantly tossed it to him. In his surprised state, he nearly fumbled the catch. "You can go in after Ucchan," she said, indicating the shower with a nod. "Remember to use warm water, or you'll be stuck as a panda."

_There_ was an idea that hadn't struck Ranma during her plotting with their fiancée the night before. 'Nah', she dismissed the thought. It'd be too cruel considering what was going to happen later. Ranma watched as her father's eyes widened as he clutched the soap to his chest greedily, eyeing the door to the shower.

When Ukyo emerged from the shower in male form a few minutes later, Genma's face fell. Heh, Ranma could almost feel sorry for the old man... 'nope'.

"Don't worry Pops," hummed Ukyo in a placating tone in his just slightly deeper than usual voice. He pointed a slender thumb over his shoulder. "There's only enough hot water in the boiler for one shower, so Ranchan and I thought we'd do you a favour." Ranma nodded in a fallaciously innocent manner, which under other circumstances would have signaled to Genma that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. However, he sensed nothing amiss, preoccupied as he was with his apparent good fortune.

"Ah, that's my boy!" declared Genma jovially, smacking Ukyo on the shoulder hard enough to win the stuffed animal at even the most tightfisted of fairground exhibitions, before grabbing a towel. Soon, the sounds of hissing water and Genma's less than lovely singing voice (imagine Yma Sumac if she were a chunky Japanese Martial Artist with a penchant for Perry Como) emitted from the WC.

Ignoring the cacophonous wailing, Ranma turned to Ukyo, who was awkwardly drying his hair while trying to avoiding dislodging the Dragon's Whisker.

"Is the water really...?" she trailed.

"Yep," nodded Ukyo with his eyes. "There's a meter in there and everything."

"Damn," grumbled the redhead, "and I was looking forward toa hot shower." She looked appraisingly at Ukyo. "Do you want me to help you with that?" indicating Ukyo's ungainly efforts to dry his pythonic braid.

"Could you, Ranchan?" he asked gratefully. She nodded agreeably.

"Sure, just gimme a sec," she mumbled, as she threw open the window shutter fully, allowing dawn light to spill into the stale smelling room. Ranma turned...andstared at the chestnut highlights that shimmered and rolled throughout the mass of Ukyo's dark hair. They seemed move like Christmas lights, illumed by the dazzling morning sun.

"Wow..." she exhaled. Forest green eyes regarded the redhead curiously.

"What is it, Honey?" he asked solicitously. Ranma blinked. Then blinked gain, clasping her hands behind her back as soon as she felt her index fingers rubbing together.

"Ah, nuthin'." Ukyo raised an inquisitive eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. Ranma agitatedly mumbled, "It's just that your hair looks, uh, it ah, looks really, y'know, pretty?" She released a deepbreath, her shoulders slackened slightly. She perked up again when Ukyo returned a sincere smile.

Ukyo beamed at the compliment. Especially when it was coming from somebody, who madethe chef feel positively plain by comparison.

"Thank you, Ranchan," breathed Ukyo. "That, uh, means a lot to me," he admitted, fighting down a blush. The okonomiyaki chef patted his chest with the back of his hand in what he hoped was a distracting manner. He looked up again at the sound of Ranma...giggling? Yes.A full on and a _terribly_ amused giggle. Quite obviously aimed at Ukyo. "Er, what?" he asked glancing about plaintively. Ranma continued to laugh unabashedly, pointing a small finger at the chef's midriff, while trying unsuccessfully to clap her mouth shut with her other hand. "Just tell me, you jackass," he demanded. He glimpsed down at where he'd patted himself a moment ago, to see his towel he had hunkered up around him to his armpits. "Ahh," he murmured, as his ears began to burn. "It's not funny, Ranchan," he stated adamantly.

"Hell yeah it is!" she exclaimed affably. Ukyo couldn't maintain the scowl on his features for long and laughed with her.

"Alright, Ranchan, Happy Hour is over," he announced a minute or so later, as took a seat on the bed, "and you still haven't dried my hair," he pointed out suggestively.

"Okay, okay," grumbled the redhead without any heat, as she smiled contentedly.

Grabbing a towel propped herself bodily on the bed. The small girl took up a kneeling position behind Ukyo. Ranma began near the Dragon's Whisker, thoroughly drying the area around the unassuming looking string, before moving to her fiancé's scalp. Methodically, Ranma rolled the towel up and down Ukyo's hair. She soon settled the damp thing aside. Placing a fresh towel on the chef's strangely tense shoulders, she ran her hands experimentally through the dark-haired boy's locks, smoothing out his scalp. 'Hmm, still a little damp,' she appraised, and was caught off guard when Ukyo sighed serenly. Ranma raised a small arched eyebrow, andnoted how tense Ukyo's shoulders were. 'I guess a massage wouldn't hurt her, well him at the moment,' she considered, removing the towel from around her fiancé's neck to gain easier access to the necessary area.

She slowly kneaded her fingers through Ukyo's unruly hair again, and quietly asked, "You want me ta' keep goin', Ucchan?" The chef exhaled and rolled her neck from side to side.

"Sure. Thanks, Ranchan. I never realized just how stiff my neck was. A cold shower isn't exactly relaxing, you know? And of course, changing genders like that cannot help." Ranma snorted playfully, as she pressed her thumbs into the nape of her companion's neck.

"Hah, you wanna trade?" questioned the girl. Ukyo hummed as Ranma began tapping a series of basic pressure points around his shoulders.

"Right now?" he asked, "Not on your life," he purred.

"Don't do that, Ucchan," pleaded the temporary masseuse.

"Huh?" replied the chef, a little dazed. "Oh, jeez, was I?" he asked looking over his shoulder at his frowning fiancée. She nodded mutely. "I'm sorry, Sugar," he said contritely, the intimate term of endearment sounded strange produced through the altered mechanics of a male voice box. He made to move away. Ranma pulled him back down firmly.

"Don't _worry_ about it," she ordered reassuringly, her tone brooking no argument. She again proceeded to run her fingers through Ukyo'sdamp hair. After a few minutes, the incident was forgotten, as Ranma worked in a steady rhythm, her small fists knuckling particularly knotted areas on Ukyo's physique.

As the session drew on, Ukyo found himself fighting sleep. His higher brain functions decided to take a nap regardless of how the rest of him felt. Relaxed as he had become, Ukyo retained enough awareness to avoid purring again. This didn't prevent the occasional blissfulbreath at the redhead's efforts. Those littleknuckles really got the job done. The cursed chef found himself musing how it would feel to have Ranma's petite frame straddling his back as she applied her deft fingers in this blissfully relaxing fashion.

His eyes opened and closed slowly as he envisioned Ranma's powerful legs clenched around his waist, as she sensuously slackened and kneaded his otherwise unyielding muscles... Perhaps the cachous scent of fragrant oils in the air, he thought, borrowing from a stock fantasy of his. Ranma's hot breath gently caressing the back of Ukyo's neck leaving a trail of hyper- sensitive gooseflesh from nape to collarbone; the illicited chill softened by the heat of desire in the ai-

Ukyo's eyes shot open as he realized that he wasn't imagining Ranma's breath on his back. His breathing quickened. He bit down a moan, but failed to subdue the quiver that accompanied it. The shiverdidn't discourage Ranma, seemingly as lost in applying her technique as Ukyo was in receiving it.

"Kami-sama," Ukyo near silently gasped as he realised that his goose bumps were not his body's only reaction to Ranma's ministrations. This was especially true, now that he felt what he knew intellectually could only be his fiancée's breasts crushed up against his bare back, only the loose fabric of Ranma's top separating them. Ukyo gasped as he felt the petite girl's uneven breath whispering wordlessly beyond his left ear. As a dainty hand reached out and plucked back a loose thread of hair, Ukyo's entire body shuddered in an anticipatory thrill, which seemed an unconscious signal as he gradually craned his neck around. The dazzled martial artist gazed at Ranma's illusory impassive features. Through heavy eyelashes, he found the small girl's eyes, as she looked up from where both her hands slowly seesawed back and forth across Ukyo's left shoulder. The fiancé's faces were scant centimetres away, moving closer. The trembling chef whispered "Ranchan..."

o-o-o

Ranma repositioned her right hand to join her second on Ukyo's left shoulder. God, her hands were small as a girl. She tentatively leaned her face forward, her chin almost resting on her hands. She could actually feel the beat of Ucchan's pulse, as she studied her fiancé's ear. Ranma absently noted that it was lobeless, as she carefully brushed back a stray lock of chestnut hair to reveal a single freckle at the tip of the round cusp. Ukyo shivered massively at the contact, and Ranma internally balked. 'Oh hell', what was she doing? She was supposed to be drying Ukyo's hair, not... whatever it was she was doing now. 'Time to stop,' she decided with conviction, before she felt Ukyo's neck crane around toward her. Ranma looked up, and her thoughts dissipated. She felt her body circumnavigate her brain, moving independently, her eyelids instinctively closing. "Ranchan..." came the susurration that may or may not have been a question. Ranma felt her forehead lightly tickled by stray strands of Ukyo's dark, unbrushed bangs. She felt his breath on her lips, which parted intuitively...

As Genma emerged from the WC.In a triumphant posehe yelled,

"Yatta!" The two teens blinked, frozen in place, millimeters separating them. While Genma praised himself a second time, the aqua-transsexual pair promptly scooted away from one another as their guardian bellowed about his accomplishment. Only now he loosened his grin enough to open his eyes. "And to think you tried to keep this cure from me Ranma. For shame, son. For shame!" he admonished paying no attention to the target of his ire's furiously blushing countenance.

o-o-o

_You lousy- _

_Hah! This coming from the hypocritical existential force that willingly cursed the Jusenkyo Guide._

_He's been cursed at least half a dozen times before. It's only a minor inconvenience to him at this stage._

_Be that as it may, you **cursed** him. How could you be so cruel?_

_**You **cursed him the other six times!_

_But those were part of my_ _Grand Scheme._

_Turning the Guide into a marmoset for six months was part of your Grand Scheme?_

_Well, not **per se**, but whose to say what will and will not affect causality and the ever-turbulent existential vicissitudes that span and fuel reality?_

_We are._

Fate, being an existential force of reality didn't sweatdrop, but did something that one could implicitly compare to a sweatdrop in regarding existential forces of time and space.

_What I can't figure out is what a South American primate was doing at Jusenkyo seven hundred years ago._

_It could have –_

_And the orangutan water that nearly splashed that Hibiki kid for that matter. They're indigenous to Borneo and Sumatra. How did one get to China?_

_Maybe it swam?_ Came the tentative suggestion.

_...I don't think so..._

_Or perhaps it escaped from the circus? _

_The Spring of Drowned Orangutan is twelve hundred years old. Do better,_ demanded Karma.

_Jusenkyo does attract a lot of strangeness... _

That is true... I suppose...

Karma became aware of a splash at the particular cursed springs, and observed as a young Chinese girl in an overly large green uniform informed the emerging black and white, flightless, aquatic bird of its curse.

_**...A &$# penguin!** Care explaining that one, Fate!...Fate?_

_Clever bastard. Grand Scheme, indeed._

o-o-o

"You understand?" demanded Ranma. "Ucchan and I'll be busy buying supplies, so you can just go on ahead to Megumi's alone. She's bound to treat you just as well as last time, remember?" Genma frowned, which seemed strange on his manically grinning face.

"Of course I do, boy!" blustered a wet Genma. He had twice been splashed with cold water since vacating the hotel. Ranma and Ukyo shared a secret smile at Genma's lie. Ukyo, wearing his double spatulas once more, reached into his blue gi jacket, and fished out a crumpled piece of paper. He wordlessly presented it to Genma. "And what's this, boy?" asked the elder Saotome as he laughed off the sudden rainfall. Ranma's lips quirked in a nasty half smile as Ukyo answered.

"Just some directions to Megumi's, Pops. Xining is a big city after all. This," he looked at the piece of paper Genma had just taken, "will get you there in case you have a hard time remembering our last visit." 'Eventually,' added Ukyo to himself. Genma, 'humphed'.

"Hah! I won't need these," he boasted motioning as though to roll up the directions and throw them away. He then carefully placed it in his gi. "But since you two went to so much trouble..." Ranma rolled her eyes, while concealing a smirk behind a small hand. Ranma gained his attention again.

"So we'll meet you at Megumi's, then?" He waved a hand dismissively and surreptitiously looked at the directions when he thought they'd turned around. "See you later," smiled Ranma, as she and Ukyo headed a different direction from the one Genma had, dreamily muttering aboutshrimp okonomiyaki under his breath. The cursed pair could barely contain their amusement when they saw Genma laughing heartily after being splashed by water from a speeding truck. They turned to one another and grinned; their mutual distraction in pulling one over on Pops having temporarily overshadowed the awkwardness of the half hour after... what happened. "So Ucchan," began Ranma casually, looking up at her taller companion, "how much free time do we have before we have to get to your cousin's?" Ukyo snickered.

"I figured since Pops was too hung over to remember his last visit here, he'll get the full scenic tour of the town. We have a good three hours to kill before he gets anywhere near Megumi's."

Ranma whistled.

"It'll take us less than half that time to get all our supplies," estimated Ranma, looking into the distance. "What'll we do then?" She turned back to her fiancé, only to see a wicked gleam in his eye, somewhat akin to how she imagined she looked last night when they plotted out Genma's little 'object lesson'.

"Not _all _of them," Ukyo thrilled in a little sing song voice. "Some need to be tried on first."

"Huh? What'cha mea..." Oh no. Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohno. "Oh no, oh-"

"Oh yes!" he smirked, "Unless, that is, you're planning to go back on your word?" He winked at her. Ranma indignantly waved her arms, and flustered,

"Of course not! But, but I -" Ukyo pulled up his fists and held them below his chin, and mumbled cutely, chin quivering in an outrageous fashion,

"S-so, you're saying th-that y-you're breaking your promise to me!" looking absolutely miserable. Ranma began making warding signs in a panic, stuttering. But quickly calmed.

"Not workin' this time, 'Sugar'," smirked Ranma.She folded her arms cockily and snorted, "You should know better to try that on me when _I'm_ the girl." Ukyo was using a lot of willpower to fight his grin. He was nodding.

"Yep, I agree, that old routine won't work on you. But just a quick question?"

"Uh huh?"

"Generally: do girls wear girl underwear?" Ranma blinked audibly and frowned at the non-sequiter.

"Well, yeah. Of course they -" Ranma suddenly found herself in apit of her own making, as the Cheshire cat formally known as Ukyo unleased his grin.

'I hate it when she smiles like that,' thought Ranma. 'I like it, too. A lot. But _that _smile never means anything good for me.' She shook her head. "Ucchan, it don't...it doesn't matter. I told you already I'd wear a bra –a_ sports_ bra," she emphasized before Ukyo got any ideas, "so I'll wear one." She sighed as Ukyo offered her a slim arm. Shaking her head in mostly mock agaitation, she accepted, saying, "Let's just get the supplies we'll need out of the way first. _Then_ you can start the torture."

"I just think you're worried you'll like it," said Ukyo in faux seriousness.

"Hah," scoffed Ranma. "I can think of better things to do than waste my time pickin' out dumb underwear." To her astonishment, Ukyo nodded wholeheartedly.

"You're right there, Sugar."

Ranma _knew_ she wouldn't like how this sentence panned out. "Its not just underwear. You're going to need a whole new wardrobe!" Ukyo paused as Ranma's face began to turn blue. "Only kidding! Jeez, always such a drama queen!" The redhead's eyes narrowed, before she grinned coquettishly, bringing her fists beneath her chin in imitation of Ukyo's earlier theatrics.

"It's better than being a drama-_king_, though, right Ukyo-_kun_?"

"I deserved that," he admitted. Ukyo cooly leaned closer to his fiancée, and unceremoniously blew in her ear, eliciting a straight ten-foot vertical leap from the younger Saotome. Ukyo simpered, as he caught the redhead in his arms "Doesn't mean I'm not going to get revenge though," he said as Ranma grumpily stuck out her tongue at the chef.

o-o-o

Okay, repeated Shampoo to herself. Must get information. Don't kill. Talk first. Kill then, if you have to, but talk first. Must find husband's location. And the enemy, too.

Since her objective was not to kill the man, Shampoo regarded the situation as she would any other involving an Amazon and an outsider male. She was of a higher station, and she would behave as such, receiving the respect and deference that was due her station. That beingtotal. Of outsider males, only her spouse deserved any modicum of respect from her. And once he was brought back to his rightful place in the village, he would become a good Amazon husband, and help Shampoo bear strong daughters.

Thinking on her husband, she sighed wistfully. Hewas awfully handsome, if a **_tad _**effeminate. But in a culture that glorified the female gender, that's wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She would have despaired at the physical size of her Lawfully Chosen husband, if not for the fact that she herself was one of the smallest women in the village, yet was the strongest of all the young warriors.

She knew that size did not always equate to power. Take thisbrute she was about to approach. He was much larger than her husband; a broad shouldered bulky specimen, but she doubted if he had half of Shampoo's strength. She would subdue him with her bonbori and then... She scowled. She could accidentally kill him. There was no assurance that he could survive even a weak attack from her maces. She was the best tracker in the village, but if the trail went cold here, she would not have an easy time finding her quarry in that overseas land of barbarians. As much as it grated her, she'd have to announce herself and... converse with him.

'The things we do in the name of Amazon Law', she thought as she approached the figure and his fire from downwind. "Nihao!" she called out with authority. The man stared at her in what she knew was awe. Yes, she recalled. Ling-Ling and Lung-Lung had described him as fairly intelligent for a male. Hmm, he wasn't too bad looking either. He might not make half-bad breeding stock for one of the unwed younger girls. But Shampoo was a married warrior, and that was none of her immediate concern.

"Who...who are you?" the bandanna clad boy asked, from beside his fire. He was unarmed and seemed to have only a pack and umbrella for company. She stepped forward with regal grace and announced with a finger to indicate herself.

"Shampoo, isShampoo." The Lost Boy stared mutely at the Amazon, just incredulously relieved that the girl had lavender hair. She wasn't... one of those. With a shrug, he walked to his pack, and began rummaging through the contents, until he found what he was searching for.

"Here you go, miss," replied Ryoga, happy to help as he tossed the bottle toward the girl. She effortlessly grabbed the container, and stared at it for a moment. Her eyes moved about as she slowly worked out what was written on the bottle, speaking aloud as she did:

"Tri...ple Bond Re... con...struc...tor. For life...less..limp...shag ...gy...hair...there.. is... no...better... sham..poo..." Suddenly her teeth clenched in rage, and she snarled, "You... you _man!_ You dare insult Shampoo! Shampoo greatest and most beautiful warrior of all of Joketsuzoku! You die!" Ryoga was frantically waving his arms. It was happening again! _Another_ misunderstanding. It was odd though. Unless it was a trick of the light, he was sure the girl's hair was lavender. Probably a dye-job, he surmised, as he woke from his reverie to duck a swipe of her multi-coloured mace. He stepped left as she stabbed the space he had just occupied. Where did she get a sword? "_DIE!_" she shrieked as he nimbly leaped over another thrust attack.

This girl was good! NotinRyoga's league, or Ukyo-san's, he thought dreamily, as he nonchalantly evaded a lunge. Or Ranma-san. _Dodge, parry_. Ah, Ranma. He couldn't wait to gaze upon her ravishing beauty again. _Leap, dodge, roll._ Yet for some reason, he felt a strange trepidation when he pictured her, he thought, as he sidestepped another of the 'shampoo girl's swings. _Duck, lean back_. What was there to dislike about Ranma? She has the most flawless creamy skin._ Leap, slide_. The most sparkling azure eyes. _Dodge. Parry. Block._ Huh, had to block that one. The most silvery voice. _Duck. Sidestep._ The most lithe, nubile, healthy...Oh hell -nosebleed!

"I'm sorry, miss. But could I trouble you for a tissue?" Ryoga frowned when the girl seemed to get even angrier. _Backflip. Block. Parry_. He smacked his forehead. Of course! "I apologise, miss. Could I **please** trouble you for a tissue?" There. He smiled...then blinked. The girl looked a mess. She looked sweaty and tired and her hair was in complete disarray. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, miss," he began apologetically, "but your hair is a mess." Yeah, she seemed shocked too. He'd try to help her out. "Maybe you should see a barber?" She screamed in what sounded life a blazing bonfire of infinite fury. But that couldn't be right. _Leap, parry_. What would anybody have done to get her so upset?... Hmm, maybe he should have said 'stylist'? The girl could very attractive, Ryoga imagined, if she had her hair styled. _Dodge, leap, dodge, roll_. Like Ukyo and Ranma; always with immaculate trademark braids. Ukyo, with her earthy, chestnut locks, and Ranma, with her silky...her silky...hey what the heck colour hair did Ranma have again? _Cartwheel. Dodge_. Ah, he supposed it didn't matter. _Dodge, leap, duck, parry, sidestep._ After all, her hair colour didn't change the size – the perkiness of her... "Miss, I really that tissue, if you have it," he said with eyes a little glazed over.

_"AAAAARRGGGGGHHHH! SHAMPOO KILLLLLLL!"_ She screamed her from the depths of her very soul, and threw everything she had into one last gasp attack, and yes! The man wasn't moving. She'd kill him! She'd prove that she could win! She'd prove that, that...even Amazons trip every now and then, as she toppled over a log, completely missing her glassy eyed target and instead skewering his traveling pack.

She arose to find the evil man had recovered from his stupor. Not only that, she was dirty, sweaty, and yes, now sticky, having penetrated some water bottle in the man's-no, demon's - pack. As he approached her forlorn figure, she steadied herself. This might be the end, but she'd go down fighting. He winced as he got a better look at her.

"Ah, jeez, I'm sorry miss. You're a mess. I wish Ukyo-san or Ranma-san was here; they'd know all about this girl stuff." With the mention of her dear husband, and bitter rival, - both their names twisted in this demon's tongue - fire returned to Shampoo's spirit. The demon: it knew. It knew what she wanted all along, and it had only toyed with her. She would swear though, that the Joketsuzoku would not rest until this demon was sent back to the pits of hell.

"Where? Where husband?"

"Huh?" replied Ryoga intelligently. Tears threatened to form in the young Amazon's eyes.

"Why you toy with Shampoo! Shampoo make deal. You can no have Shampoo soul, but Amazons owe you boon. You tell Shampoo where husband Ucchan is, and you have boon of Joketsuzoku. Is very valuable. Treasure even in hell!" Ryoga was understandably perplexed, but did pick up a familiar name. Frowning, he asked,

"You said 'Ucchan'. That 's what Ranma-san calls Ukyo-san."

"Yes! Yes, them. Where they!" Having appraised this girl, Ryoga felt she'd be no threat what so ever to either of his loves. She was probably just a little fan or something.

"Sure, I'll help you out finding your hero," he said with a small sympathetic smile.

"Really? Really? You help Shampoo?"

"Last I heard, they were both in Qinghai." The girl became decidedly more belligerent.

"Not now stupid! Where they go?" Ryoga shook his head at the little girl's ignorance,

"Japan, of course." What type of fan didn't even know where their idol lived?

"Where? Where in Japan?" Ryoga scratched his chin.

"Can't really say. They move around a lot." The girl's eye began filling up with tears again. "Wait, wait. When we left Jusenkyo, I overhead Mr. Saotome talking about the Tendo Dojo in Tokyo while in he asleep. I sure hope that helps you, miss?" he asked again.

"Shampoo." Ryoga grimaced as he grabbed his gear. Maybe she'd accept his conditioner?

The girl smiled to herself. She had a name now, and a place. Yes, everything had gone according to plan. She turned around. The demon was gone! Pack and all. Probably teleported back to Hades, surmised the Amazon warrior. She imagined that if she strained her senses enough, she'd likely detect a hint of sulfur in the air.

Shampoo promptly left the site of the demon's camp. It was probably cursed; after all, the demon had mentioned something about the Pools of Sorrow. As she disappeared into the woods she missed the white cloaked figure emerge from the shadows.

"Thank whatever gods have stalled you here, my beautiful Shampoo," he spoke with fervour to himself. "Now that I have your trail, I won't lose you again. I shall not allow you leave your birthplace alone." Despite his brightly coloured attire, the figure quickly melted into the night.

"Where am I now?"

"Him again!" Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned – or those simply fed up with a specific pervert invading their particular locker room. "Get him!" Spying no avenue of escape, Ryoga cringed, resigned himself to his horrible fate yet again. Askance, he heard one of his assailants question nobody in particular (between bludgeoning the prostate Hibiki with a deceptively heavy dustpan),

"Seriously, why doesn't this freaking pervert go bother the blondes or brunettes once in a while?"

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter is directly continued in the next part.

FFNet's random removal of my spaces continues.


	9. Object Lessons Part 2

**Chapter 7 – Object Lessons - Part Two**

"Seriously, why doesn't this freaking pervert go bother the blondes or brunettes once in a while?"

The alleged deviant winced as he suffered another knock to the ribs. If only they'd afford him the opportunity to tell them that he had never intended to bother any of them. That his lousy sense of direction had recently escalated to a level where he truly beginning to feel as though some external force was 'out to get him'. Suitably switching to English (one of several languages in which he was proficient), Ryoga pleaded with his captors.

The savage pummelling ceased as the collected girls' ire at the kibitzer gave way to curiosity. This had been the first time the interloper had remained conscious long enough to accomplish anything beyond squealing in pain.

"Could you... repeat that?" asked one of the still surprised girls. Ryoga quickly complied.

"Ach lassies! Will'n yer be givin' me a bloomin' chance t'explain misself!" He frowned at their somewhat dumbfound expressions, relieved at least that the beating has halted. "What's the matter lasses?" asked the boy, noting their reactions. "You look like a bunch'a Rangers fans who just heard ye were down three-nil to Dundee United at half time."

A fairly tall brown-eyed girl, seemingly the group's de facto leader spoke up.

"You're," she began incredulously, looking appraisingly at the Oriental boy, "you're _Scottish?_"

Huh? Had this girl hit her head during the fracas? Having unwittingly traversed the globe during his time, Ryoga was well aware that he didn't look western. So why did...? Oh, yeah. He had picked up most of his English at the source, Britain.

"Oh, ye been meanin' m'accent, wee lass?" The girl and several of her companions nodded woodenly. "Ah, 'tis nuthin'. Ah just happened ta pick up a coupl'a phrases or two during a wee excursion ta Edinborough a coupl'oh years back." The assembled girls raised their eyebrows. A couple of phrases?

"Think nuthin' of it," he advised.

"Do you know Mel Gibson?" asked a shorthaired girl in a somewhat dreamy tone. Confused, he shook his head.

"All right," replied the tall girl casually hefting a broom. "Let's get back to business." Most of her cohorts joined her in raising their blunt instruments of female righteousness.

"Will ya hold yer horses!" he implored as he brought his hands up to shield his face. "Ya nay gave me half a breath ta get a word in edgeways!"

"Alright," replied the leader, as the other girls mumbled impatiently amongst themselves. "We'll cut you some slack because we were already finished dressing this time." Her eyes hardened. "But this had better be good," she warned menacingly.

The Lost Boy sweated through his bandanna, as he awkwardly grinned in what he hoped was a disarming fashion.

"Well bonnie," he began. "Ah _sometimes_ have a bit'a hassle findin' me way aboot..."

o-o-o

Genma was beginning to become irritable. The Anything-Goes Master had spent nearly two hours meandering through the streets of Xining and had yet to reach his destination. That in itself wasn't so bad. He'd bought a snack from a food vendor to tide himself over until he found his way to his charge's relative.

What was principally contributing to his grouchiness was that he currently wetter than Jacque Cousteau's submarine during a rainstorm. And despite his best efforts, he couldn't seem to avoid water long enough to become even remotely dry.

He sniffed. Feh! It still beat being a panda. The martial artist grinned satisfactorily as he trod past a building he failed to recognise as the hotel they had stayed in the night before. Recalling his son's deference to his wisdom, he afforded himself a mental pat on the back. His sodden gi squishing with every step, Genma blithely ignored the frothy build up on his exposed forearms.

o-o-o

"That about covers everything we need, even if Megumi doesn't help us out," declared as still male Ukyo as they left the food stall. He could have asked earlier for warm water, but felt Ranma may have thought he was tomrenting her. Regardless, he'd become accustomed to the male form over the past week or so. It didn't upset him to anywhere near the extent it had immediately following Jusenkyo. He absently speculated why that was, before dismissing the thought, as his companion spoke.

"Are you sure?" she asked uneasily. "I mean, if there's anything else we need,"

"Now, now," grinned Ukyo, disingenuously wagging a reproachful finger. "You've stalled for long enough," he commented lightly.

Ranma glanced up, and looked about the street, biting her lower lip. As she scanned the area, she realised that she had dragged Ukyo into every food vendor on the street. She was out of options. Deflating, she murmured miserably,

"Time to face the music, I guess," appearing as though she expected Ukyo to offer her a cigarette at any moment.

The chef's heart damn near broke at the redhead's tone. She's _really _dreading this, realised Ukyo. Regardless, he resolved that they would still acquire the necessary garment for his petite fiancée to support herself. Ukyo would have given Ranma one of his own, but a single cursory glance at the redhead's figure indicated that they would be... insufficient for the girl's needs.

Ukyo's puckered brow transformed into smiling eyes as an idea struck him. Grabbing his startled friend 's small hand, he began backtracking to a store he'd noted earlier. "Ucchan?" softly questioned the redhead. "What are you up t-?"

"Sugar," interrupted the taller teenager, as he glimpsed down at her. Ranma craned her sight up, and gazed. The chef was smiling. And it wasn't the dangerous one. Greeted with that expression, the girl felt her spirits lift. After all, things weren't so bad.

She quickly decided to cease grumbling about something she herself had already accepted as necessary.

"Ucchan," cut in the girl, her tone contrite, "I'm sorry I'm being such an ass about this." Ranma paused when Ukyo chuckled briefly.

"You've nothing to be sorry for, Hon." Quickly, he continued, "You're a sixteen year old guy, Ranchan, and you're about to go shopping for a bra for yourself." Ranma blushed as red as her thigh-length hair, thankful Ukyo was speaking Japanese. "I can't imagine anyone else in your situation handling it as well as you have," praised the dark haired boy, before sniffing. "Most guys would have told me to go suck a lemon." Ranma grinned, unveiling dimpled cheeks,

"And if I had said that?"

"Then we'd be shopping for a teddy right now," answered the brunette humorously. "And I _don't _mean a stuffed toy." The redhead chortled as Ukyo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. The chef continued - delighted to see the girl back in the high spirits. "What I was about to suggest a moment ago Sugar, is that if we're going to shop, we should **_Shop_**.

"Don't follow."

"What I mean," clarified Ukyo when Ranma stared vacantly, is that we should make it worthwhile. Memorable," he expounded. Pursing her lips in an unintentionally cute manner, the girl asked,

"Like how?"

"How about," began Ukyo tapping a slim index finger thoughtfully against his lips. "How about we each get something for the other... not just something," he decided, "an outfit!" Ranma's blossoming enthusiasm visibly waned, as she wilted a little. Seeing this, Ukyo appeased, "Don't worry! We each have to get something we'd _both_ wear." The redhead relaxed and her eyes took on contemplative quality, before marring her features with a frown.

"But I'm not really good at matchin' and stuff."

"Uh – uh," smiled the chef. "I saw the twinkle in your eye. You have something in mind?"

"Well, I dunno," she replied self assuredly, idly twirling a stray red lock with her fingers. "I saw something in a store earlier, but..." Ukyo took a firmer hold of Ranma's hand.

"Which shop?"

She told him. "Then let's get going," he proclaimed brightly.

As they backtracked to the store in question, Ukyo mused over strange coincidences.

o-o-o

"So let me get this _straight_," announced the cock-eyed girl. Her classmates stared dubiously at the muscular boy sitting sheepishly before them. "You're a Japanese martial artist?"

"Aye," he confirmed.

"And you've got two girls," he nodded. "Both of whom you got separated from in the wilds of China some days back, and you've been wandering about, searching for them."

"Tis the honest to gawd truth," he intoned solemnly. The girl rolled her eyes.

"And during this time, in addition to at least two dozen various locations in China and South-East Asia, you've also visited," she motioned for shorthaired girl holding a pen and writing pad to speak.

"Australia." The tall girl held up a souvenir Sydney Opera House figure, sarcastically commenting,

"You _sure_ you don't know Mel Gibson?" He shook his head insistently as the girl with the writing pad's eyes became starry again, before continuing to read from the pad.

"Disneyland." A figure of cartoon duck on the Eiffel tower was produced. "Disneyland _Paris_," corrected the shorthaired girl as she read on. "A bullfight in either Mexico or Spain, you don't know which." A matador's cape was Exhibit C. "Greece." The arms of the Venus Di Milo. "Check that. Ancient Greece." She read on. "The Sea of Serenity, wherever that is." A tattered American flag and a strange looking wand. "And of course," she finished flatly, "during all this, you've made sixteen detours – _that we know of_ – into our locker room." This time a different girl presented a battered dustpan, and glared.

Gulping back the bile in his throat, Ryoga anxiously scratched the back of his bandanna-clad head.

"Well, when ye be puttin' that way lass, it do sound a little like,"

"Utter crap?" suggested dustpan girl sweetly. His head fell.

"Ach... aye. But 'tis no lie. If'n ye had some surveillance equipment ye be seein' that I did'na mean ta find yer room and I certainly did'na do anythin' pre-verted."

"Surveillance equipment? In a locker room?" asked the leader dryly.

"Wait," interjected writing pad girl. Seeing she had the group's attention, she asked, "There are security cameras in the hall, right?"

o-o-o

I'm surprised he didn't have the Mars Rover in his pack.

About that...

I don't want to know. As soon as he's back in China, you're returning his family curse back to its original level.

Have it your way.

Why do I get the very distinct feeling that this isn't all that you've been up to?

Probably because it's true.

o-o-o

"Amazing. The vents and the window slats are far too narrow for you to have passed through, let alone your pack," explicated leader girl. "I guess... I mean you definitely weren't on camera. I suppose you are telling the truth." Ryoga relaxed, immensely relieved that he wouldn't have to suffer through what had appeared another inevitable estrogen-fueled pulping.

Uncomfortably, the girl turned to her companions, and they whispered animatedly amongst themselves. A moment later, the group less than enthusiastically chorused, "We're sorry."

"Ah, 'tis nay bother," Ryoga gestured appeasingly. He stood, shouldering his pack. "Ah best me on me way from here." He made to leave, but on impulse enquired, "Afore I be goin', ah may as well ask where here is." Writing pad girl answered.

"Keratin High School for Girls, Honolulu." He didn't react. "Hawaii," she expounded. He blinked. She sweated. "America." He nodded sagely. Still in questioning mode and as curious as when he had first arrived in this particular locker room, he asked,

"And do all the lasses at Keratin High be havin' yer lovely crimson locks?" The fourteen redheads groaned exasperatedly, as their leader answered,

"That's our insane principal's fault. _Everything _he does has to have a hair theme to it." He saw the others girls nod and grimace. "Instead of arranging Phys Ed classes by age or something, we're broken up by hair colour." Ryoga raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I'm serious," she insisted. "And that's only for P.E. Our normal classes are decided by hairstyle! Do you have any idea what its like to suddenly have an entirely different curriculum because you decided to wear your hair in a ponytail?" she demanded. Another girl took up the story,

"And that lunatic says it'd be easier if we all just had bowl cuts!"

"Remember when he changed the school name? This place used to be called Hazel High!" added another. Ryoga looked on passively as the group angrily discussed the various tortures that their sadistic headmaster had subjected them to.

"Ah... see." He didn't. Shrugging his shoulders, he announced, "Well, bonnie lasses. I'm off and about. Take care of yer wee selves," and with that farewell, left the room.

"Good luck," they called after him. Dustpan girl chimed,

"We hope you find your... girlfriends..."

Silence reigned as the assembled girls exchanged glances.

"He _was_ a pervert! Get back here!"

o-o-o

"This is weird," complained Ranma as the cursed couple made their way to the store the redhead (and the brunet) had bookmarked. They taken a detour on the way at another establishment and procured several sports bras for the grumpy girl.

"Stop fidgeting," demanded the chef, rolling his eyes at his fiancée's behaviour. As Ukyo eyed his companion, a tiny part of his mind was disappointed that her assets were now restrained. That was the same part had allowed Ranma to dominate a particular training session against a male and very distracted Ukyo during the journey to Xining.

"It feels like I'm wearing a jock strap on my chest," groused the redhead as she glanced at herself. Ukyo really hoped she'd be over this _verbal _phase by the time they returned to Japan.

While they had been buying the bras, Ukyo had realised that there were other items of clothing and... equipment Ranma would need. He patted her on the shoulder, gaining the preoccupied girl's attention. "Uh-hum?" murmured the petite figure, turning brilliant blue eyes upward.

'Ranchan's really cute like that', reflected the chef as the midday sun shone evenly on her fiancée's features. There was absolutely nothing one could do to improve on that face, thought Ukyo, critically. Unplucked eyebrows, no make-up, and an expression that could be called cantankerous at best. In that moment, Ukyo couldn't think of a thing that he would want to change about her.

Especially not that blush.

"Ucchan?" Ranma was beginning to feel restless. Ukyo had tapped her about thirty seconds earlier (she absently noted that the hand still rested on her shoulder) and had spent the interval staring at her dumbly. Ukyo's teeth were showing in his smile, and its subject bit her lips to fight back the blush she felt.

It was futile of course. Feeling the blood rush into her cheeks, she hastily returned her eyes to the ground. Why was _she_ so embarrassed? Ukyo was the one acting strangely. What was he thinking, gawking at her in the middle of the street like that? For the most part Ranma acknowledged, passers-by were simply ignoring the pair, but the thought that anybody could be watching set her ears to burning even hotter than before.

Gathering her wits, Ranma raised her eye-level. Her eyes found Ukyo's blinking mechanically, as though waking from a deep sleep. "Ucchan?" she questioned dryly.

"Huh?" replied the taller martial artist dazedly. He shook his head slightly. "Sorry, Hon," he apologised. "I just zoned out there for a second."

"Try two minutes," amended Ranma testily, her discomfiture receding. Ukyo mutely adopted a questioning expression. Sighing huffily, sending a few loose strands of hair billowing in the process, the redhead prompted, "You were saying something?" Ukyo snapped his fingers, recalling his line of thought.

"I was just thinking,"

"No, you were gawking," contended Ranma. Ukyo blinked, and sniggered giddily.

"Before that," amended Ukyo. "Anyway, you're going to have to realize that the sports bra isn't the only concession to..." How to say this? "Muliebrity," he decided, "that you'll have to make."

"Care to _elaborate _on that?" asked Ranma, her hands going to her hips.

"Ah, Ranma?" he said in an odd tone.

"Yeah?"

"You asked me to tell you if it happened," he explained. "Your arms are akimbo again." Ranma just _looked_ at him.

"A-what-what?"

"Girly," he clarified, with a sigh.

"Eek!" Ranma roughly pushed her arms to her sides, and turned her attention back to the chef. "Still waiting."

Ukyo gulped and mumbled obliquely,

"Well, like your boxers."

"What about them?" asked Ranma cautiously. "You mean I can't wear,"

"You can still wear them," interrupted the chef. "...Just not all the time."

"Why not?" she asked hesitantly. Ukyo examined the sidewalk as he mumbled,

"They won't, you know, hold a p – er, that is..." Gods, how was he supposed to explain this? Wait, he thought with some relief. He needn't! "You know Sex-Ed class, right?"

"I know _of _it," she answered carefully.

Damn, but she wasn't making this any easier!

"But do you rem...? Y'know with the thi..."

Forget it. He couldn't deal with this now. Later, yes. Ukyo recognized however, that he couldn't put off **the talk** for long. His countenance grew lighter as he dismissed it for the time being. "Oh, it's nothing, Sugar. Forget I said anything."

Raising the small arch of an eyebrow, Ranma rolled,

"Oookay."

"Come on," he said, brightening. "We still have some shopping to do." Smiling infectiously, he grabbed her hand and resumed their path. Ranma grinned crookedly at Ukyo's enthusiasm, lightly remonstrating,

"Slow down, baka. We still have plenty of time."

"I know," agreed the green-eyed boy. "I just can't wait to see what you picked out for me."

"Really?" asked the redhead in surprise.

"Of course," he gushed back.

"Be afraid," she warned ominously.

o-o-o

Wiping at his brow, Genma flicked foam from the back of his hand. Mercifully, the splashing had petered off a little, but now his torso appeared enveloped by frothy bubbles.

A tub being unceremoniously emptied from a second story window was sufficient to rinse off most of the substance. Content, now that he was bubble-free and only damp, Genma cleaned his glasses and smirked. Almost there.

o-o-o

"Ranchan, you _really _don't know your sizes?"

"You mean you _do_?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Ukyo. "It was one of the first things I checked after, you know?"

"Mmm," nodded the girl. "I just assumed I could wear my normal clothes..." Ukyo eyes became half-lidded. "Hey, I could tighten the sash you know?" she grumbled defensively.

"Sugar," began the spatula-wielding boy. "You're guy side is about a foot taller than you are. Broader shoulders, narrower hips, not as cute – I mean," he cleared his throat, "rounded. Heh." Ranma smirked and pretended to miss Ukyo's slip. "You're gi is one thing, but anything else would be up to your armpits."

"Like a certain towel?" winked Ranma.

"Hey, that wasn't!" His fiancée broke into giggles. Ukyo looked to the heavens. "I thought we were already through this." Wiping away a tear, the redhead sniggered,

"Sorry, Ucchan. But just thinking of the sight...BWHAHAAHAAH!" The chef waited patiently for his companion to laugh herself out. After another round of guffaws, the longhaired boy asked

"You back with us?" Ranma had the grace to feign abashment. Ukyo knelt and fished about his pack for a moment before producing a long cord. He nodded behind Ranma. "Into the dressing room, kid."

Glancing over her shoulder, the small girl curiously turned her attention back to the chef. "You _want_ me to measure you out here?" asked Ukyo smirking wickedly. Ranma squeaked in shock, bolting into the booth, causing several patrons to snicker.

The redhead frowned when Ukyo followed her in, his spatulas ungainly in the tight confines.

"Not that I'm complaining, Ucchan," drawled the redhead, theatrically slipping off her gi vest, "but wouldn't it be easier if I did the measuring?" Ranma frowned curiously when the boy didn't respond. "Ground control to Ucchan? Heck, are you gonna keep doing this all day?" she grumped when he didn't react.

Ukyo, meanwhile was entranced by the bellybutton that peeked out from beneath Ranma's T-shirt when she shrugged off her gi. His fascination was cut short when he was lightly rapped on the head.

"Hey!" he grimaced, rubbing his crown, "Why did you do that, jackass?" He brought his eyes to Ranma's and immediately rescinded his complaint. "Er... sorry," he apologised in the face of Ranma's unamused half-hooded gaze. She glanced at the cord in his hands. "Oh yeah," he gulped, "here you go," he handed her the tape and stepped backwards out of the booth.

Fifteen minutes later found the pair back near the stalls as they presented the clothes they had selected for one another. Ukyo went first. Ranma nodded amiably as she took each item, seemingly pleased with her fiance's choices. She quickly threw her bundle into the chef's hands and entered a booth without waiting for Ukyo's appraisal. The gi-clad boy shrugged, and examined the garments in his hands. Humming, he entered another cubicle.

They exited as one, a satisfied expression gracing Ukyo's face, and a cocksure one on Ranma's. "You look great, Sugar," commented Ukyo taking in the redhead and her outfit. Dark, smoky gray slacks, above a pair of black slippers. An equally dark grey tang adorned her torso, which Ranma had left open to reveal the royal blue tank top beneath, which she filled out rather nicely, noted Ukyo. He paused in his judgment, rubbing his chin speculatively. Snapping his fingers, he stepped close and quickly removed the loose tang, leaving Ranma confusedly asking what he was doing. "Give me a sec, Sugar," he requested, tying the long arms of the tang around Ranma's waist, under the snaking braid. Finished, he took a step back. "Perfect," he grinned.

The redhead examined herself, and smiled approvingly.

"I like," she commented. Her smile wavered as she asked, "And you?" Ukyo exaggeratedly inspected his own clothes for Ranma's benefit.

"Nice," he answered in his jet black slacks and slippers, a sleeveless silk, red tang fastened up his chest. "Very nice, indeed." Ranma beamed.

"Domo, Ucchan."

"Ditto, Sugar," he chuckled at her zest. He began to walk to the till, "Let's pay for these and head to Megumi's."

"We're wearing these out?" asked Ranma indicating their new clothes.

"Why not?" he questioned rhetorically. The redhead nodded in acquiescence, before her eyes turned sinister, a devious smile replacing her good-natured one.

"Think we should get somethin' for Pops, too?" They snickered slyly together, recalling last night's conversation.

o-o-o

"I'm gonna let him have it."

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, Ranchan!" said Ukyo concernedly. "Did I get you with the spatula, too? I didn't mean,"

"I'm_ fine_, Ucchan," assured Ukyo's diminutive roommate. The brunette nodded, moving closer. Her fiancée's concern muted at least verbally, Ranma huffed,

"You're right that Pops won't give up tryin' to get his hands on the soap," she admitted, sparing a withered glare for the unconscious subject of their discussion. "Even though it ain't, isn't," she corrected herself, "really a cure. Not for him or you at least. So I what I suggest," she intoned, "is that he needs an object lesson to get that through his skull." Disquiet for her fiancée's mental health gave way to intrigue as Ukyo gleefully realised that she was now a co-conspirator.

"Go on," prompted the inquisitive girl.

"I'll give him the soap in the mornin', and he'll use it for sure. But do you remember what the old geezer said?" Ranma asked. She was unable to keep all traces of ire from her tone at the mention of the proprietor of the Dragon Whisker supplying restaurant. The taller girl frowned momentarily and replied,

"You mean about the curse compensating by..."

"Exactly. Now how will Pops react when he doesn't change?"

"He'll be happy for one," said the chef obviously. Ranma motioned that she continue. She mulled over it. "And... he'll probably let his guard down as far as... Aha!" She declared triumphantly, "I see where you're going with this, you little fiend!" she sniggered while Ranma's face adopted a self-satisfied look. "Because he won't be expecting any change, he won't be ready with that technique of his that stops his clothes from being ripped apart." She looked at the redhead with an undisguised gleam in her eye. "Which of us gets to throw the hot water on him?"

"Neither. If anyone's going to use hot water it'll be Pops."

"You've lost me, Sugar," said Ukyo matter-of-factly. Ranma raised a small index finger, and seemingly changed the subject.

"Remember when we first came through this town from Sichuan a few weeks back?" The brunette nodded, confused as to where Ranma was going with this. "And we dropped by that cousin of yours?"

"Of course!" remembered Ukyo. "Cousin Megumi." She and her husband ran a decent sized Okonomiyaki restaurant downtown, just a pair the of the many extended Kuonji family members that riddled the Orient, and provided those unfortunate enough to be outside of Japan with the dish they took so seriously, they had made a martial art out of it.

"We could have stayed there tonight if not for," she sighed, "you know." Ranma nodded, as Ukyo brightened. "She told me that we two should drop by on our way back, 'assuming that jackass Saotome doesn't get us arrested or killed in the meantime'," she paraphrased her cousin. Pausing in thought for a moment, Ukyo posed, "Did you ever realise that extended family members I've never even _met,_ seem to know Pops' rather 'unsavoury' reputation?"

"I noticed that," answered the redhead amused by the sugarcoated terminology that Ukyo used to describe Pops' less than ethical exploits. "Good for them, I'd say," volunteered Ranma. Even though being honest with herself, most of Genma's immoral and...'sub legal' activities had really tapered off over the past few years. Especially with Ucchan and she maturing enough to recognise one of his harebrained ideas from a mile away. But that hadn't prevented all many of petty thievery while Ucchan and she were still little kids. She wondered what the statue of limitations on running out on hotel bills was.

"Anyway, Ucchan. I think we should send Pops to your cousin's place to let her know that we're back in town."

"Honey, are you _sure _I didn't get you with my spatula?" Ranma understood the taller girl's confusion. When they had passed through Xining several weeks earlier, Ukyo's elder cousin had to be restrained from attempting to decapitate merrily drunk Genma with the massive baker's peel that served as the Kuonji family's 'Great-Spatula'. It supervened when he had liberated some (that is to say all) of the liquor that he had found hidden in a cabinet in the apartment they had stayed in, above Megumi's.

Smiling at her fiancée's concern, Ranma answered,

"Pops doesn't even remember what happened, Ucchan. You know how drunk he was that night? We'll just tell him there's free eats waitin' for him and he'll be out of here faster than Tsubasa at the mention of Ryoga's name."

Ranma sniffed at that. True, she may feel that Ryoga was a bit of pain, but she had to respect one aspect of him. That being his dedication to keeping the little cross-dressing weirdo from bothering Ucchan. It was right after the first time Ryoga had clobbered the gender-confused nuisance, that Ukyo had given him the pet name 'Ryochan'. This of course cemented Ryoga's budding attraction towards the brown-haired girl into a full on teenage crush.

Such things were only natural, Ranma supposed. But it had irritated the younger Saotome that along with his crush on Ukyo came an intrinsic antipathy to the guy who Ryoga viewed as his rival for the chef's affections. The redhead shuddered. She'd much rather have to put up with Ryoga's schoolboy resentment than the awkward politeness he'd displayed after Jusenkyo. Especially after Ukyo had informed her of the reasoning behind such behaviour.

Ryoga no hentai, chanted Ranma in he mid with an external shiver. Nonetheless, she couldn't fault him for his Tsubasa pummelling skills. Hibiki could get lost in a corridor with only one end, yet had an unerring ability to see through the transvestite's most intricate disguises. The odd thing was that when Tsubasa chose not to disguise himself, instead donning street clothes – which in Kurenai's case likely consisted of a sundress and bonnet – Ryoga was unremittingly fooled.

Sure, Tsubasa _was_ convincing as a girl, but for Kami-sama's sake, Ryoga_ knew_ what he looked like! While an insanely detailed and realistic post-box disguise was transparent to the directionally challenged lad, a new hat or a pair of sunglasses easily threw him off the cross dresser's scent.

Putting the thought aside for the time being, Ranma continued, "And if Pops does manage to make it to Megumi's it'll only be a bonus."

"I don't understand, Ranchan," replied the chef, furrowing her brow in what Ranma deigned an exceedingly cute fashion.

"Ucchan," she began, "Do you remember exactly where your cousin's restaurant is?"

"Sure I do," answered Ukyo in a mildly exasperated tone. "Its near the bazaars, just outside the... the market..." Ranma winked as comprehension dawned. "You devious little minx," proclaimed Ukyo growing a nasty grin. "That is evil, Ranchan... Can I help?"

o-o-o

Dressed in their new outfits, with Ranma deciding to also don the green cap of a Mao worker's outfit, the two teenage girls approached Megumi's. They realised from the lack of discernible carnage that they had beaten Genma there. Ukyo had availed herself of hot water beforehand. She didn't want to speculate on what her family might do to Pop if they discovered he had gotten her cursed.

They entered to find the restaurant moderately busy. Ukyo knew that would soon change with the arrival of the lunch crowd. Ranma and she approached the counter, where they saw Megumi's husband preparing an okonomiyaki. Without looking up, he acknowledged the two, asking,

"What can I get you ladies?" in Mandarin. Grinning, Ukyo replied,

"Two Kuonji Specials," in Japanese. He looked up in surprise, which quickly changed to recognition, as he gushed,

"Ukyo! You back!" in the teens' language. "Megumi will be much relieved you still alive," he said jovially. Ukyo laughed with him. "You come, and I get her for you."

A few minutes later found Ukyo reacquainting herself with her cousin as she gave a (thoroughly edited) account of their situation.

"So, Genma got you in trouble again, did he?" the shorthaired woman said darkly.

"No, no!" appeased Ukyo. "It was all of us who were at fault."

"Well, I can't really get angry," admitted the woman, fiddling with her own massive spatula. "From what I hear, its almost impossible not to get in trouble with those Amazons. Some of the strangest customs, they have," she mused.

"Tell us about it," grumbled Ranma. Megumi turned curious eyes to the redhead.

"And who are you, dear?" she asked. "Ukyo didn't mention you in her tale." Ranma began to pale, recalling that Ukyo had only mentioned Genma's curse, even though Megumi thought Ukyo was just pulling her leg.

"She was in trouble with the Amazons too," blurted Ukyo quickly. "She helped us out, and now they're after her too." That seemed to satisfy the woman, as she turned a smile on the short girl.

"Well, I certainly won't let anybody who helped my little cousin go without thanks. What's your name, dear?" Ranma blinked, giving Ukyo a side-glance.

"My name?" Megumi nodded. "Ah, its...ah,"

"Rapunzel," answered Ukyo, concealing a grin.

"Rapunzel-chan, on behalf of the Kuonji Clan, I thank you," intoned the woman. Ranma ginned sickly, and turned eyes that promised vengeance to Ukyo when Megumi looked away. Ukyo seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Her entire body trembling with effort, Ukyo unleashed the mother of all belly laughs when her cousin left the room to help her husband with the lunch crowd.

"Laugh it up," growled Ranma, snarling in an absurdly cute manner.

"That was priceless!" Wheezed the chef. "Your face, haha!"

When Megumi returned, Ukyo, who had finally overcome her giggles sought her attention. Again explaining their need to be away from the pursuing Amazon, the older woman pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Dad will help you out," declared Megumi. Ukyo cocked her head, and she elucidated. "My father – your father's brother, Ukyo-chan – can get you across China – hastily if need be," she added. Ukyo and Ranma contemplated what 'connections' were involved, when Megumi laughed at their expression. "Don't worry girls. It's nothing illegal." Well, particularly, she amended mentally. "What I mean is he'll pay your way to Japan." She smiled at their hanging jaws. "I make a pretty penny here after, ahem, paying the piper. But Dad up in Lanzhou is well, for lack of a better term, rolling in it.

"I'll ring him and let him know what's going on. He'd probably be happy to help out regardless. Dad hasn't seen you in years Ukyo-chan. Remember, the whole family's looking out for you."

Ukyo smiled and was about to reply when a commotion from outside brought her and Ranma's heads up. She moved quickly to the large open window Ranma had already stationed herself at and motioned for her cousin to join them.

o-o-o

"Uh-oh..." mumbled Genma when he tried to wipe off yet more foam. "Why is it bubbling like that?" Realisation hit just as he glanced up at the market place before him. "OH, SHI-!"

The panda's signed bore the twentieth letter of the alphabet as his gi ripped,as his presence in that particular area became slightly more welcome and significantly less healthy. He gulped at the hungry looks he was receiving from the dozens of locals, who were all reaching for the quite nasty looking instruments of their trade.

o-o-o

"Still don't believe me about Pops' curse, Megumi-chan?" posed Ukyo as the trio watched the havoc outside the building.

A large, wet panda in a torn gi was fending off several dozen determined businessmen armed with various implements of taxidermy. Genma bolted through the crowded streets as people gawked at the sight of a live panda dashing through one of the largest fur markets in Western China.

"Is that...?" asked a wide-eyed Megumi.

"Uh-huh," chorused the grinning girls. The woman shook her head and began snickering.

"You _are_ aware that I love you two?"

Meanwhile,a furiously dodging Genma somehow found the time to reflect that _maybe_ there was something to what his son had said about the soap's reliability after all.


	10. Homecomings

Its been a while, so I felt that a recap might be prudent.

_What has gone on before: _

_Ukyo went along for the ride with the Saotome's in this universe. At Jusenkyo, Genma and Ranma received their usual curses. Predictably, events conspired to dump Ukyo in the Nanniichuan. Ryoga escaped undipped. Sorry, P-Chan fans. In the days following Jusenkyo, Ryoga quickly developed an attraction to Ranma's female form, evidently convincing himself that she was now a real girl. His earlier attraction to Ukyo despite this, did not wane._

_In the Amazon village, Shampoo was defeated by both Ranma and Ukyo, each in their cursed form. They received the Kisses of Death and Marriage respectively. _

_Back at Jusenkyo, Ryoga bottled some Nyannchiuan, and the unfortunate Guide joined Ranma in unwillingly exploring his feminine side._

_An accident with the Dragon's Whisker porridge led to Ranma having to effectively lock himself in his cursed form with the waterproof soap for the meantime. An almost kiss between Ranma and Ukyo was inadvertently foiled by Genma, who has motives of his own. Ukyo's affluent uncle provided the trio with transport back to Japan._

_Ryoga's directional difficulties have ballooned to an outrageous level, as Shampoo can attest. The Amazon girl is also unknowingly being shadowed by a heavily-dressed figure…_

**Chapter 8 - Homecomings**

Planes screamed overhead the packed Chengdu airport. Thousands of travellers, unable to engage in such an indulgence, wearily waited on their respective flights. It didn't do anyone's patience any favours when it was announced that there was a disturbance that would cause another delay. A multitude of sighs answered the declaration made by the various large speakers positioned throughout the buildings. When such a proclamation is made, people tend to make certain assumptions as to the nature of the problem. The more paranoid passenger may suspect a bomb threat, or perhaps there was a foiled attempt at smuggling contraband aboard a plane.

The less dramatic, and more pragmatic passengers dismissed the delay as the cause of un-kept schedules, and inept airport staff.

The more cynical airline customers proposed that they send someone to the airport pharmacy and fetch the pilot a hangover cure, should they ever expect to take off.

If indeed there was one thing all these passengers had in common, it was that they would never believe the actual source of the disturbance was small, lavender-haired girl belligerently wielding two oversized baby-rattles. Said girl refused to move until the staff complied with her wishes, and allowed her to board the next flight to Japan.

Shampoo scowled unhappily. Despite this being a matter of law, she was still willing to pay her fare, yet the stupid woman (she'd have decked a man by then) at the counter insisted on being shown a 'passport', whatever that was. Thinking on it, she recalled that her great-grandmother had once told her she'd applied for a 'passport' for her. But that was over a year ago, and she hadn't really being paying attention, engaged as she had been in pummelling a challenger.

"Miss," spoke the short-haired woman at the counter. "If you don't have your passport, I'm afraid we cannot allow you to board a flight out of the country."

"Don't you understand?" demanded Shampoo, smacking her hand against her forehead. "This is a sacred mission! I told you I'd pay," she indicated, holding up a wad of yuan bills. "What more do you want?" she asked in confusion.

"Its more complicated than -"

"What's complicated about it?" boggled the girl. "I give you money for passage on your flying carria-, er plane, and you take me across the water." She indicated a price list between them on the counter top. "This is more than what you're asking for, _so take me already!_" The woman winced as Shampoo's voice raised in anger.

"Please calm down, miss," pleaded the subject of the girl's ire as she held her hands in an appeasing gesture. She was relieved to see airport security closing in from the corner of her eye. She turned her gaze once more to the girl, spotting as she did, a new item on the counter. She promptly picked up and scanned the irate girl's passport. Had she been just playing a game? Regardless of the inappropriate joke, she motioned for the security to back off. However, a guard had already placed his hand on Shampoo's shoulder.

"Is there a problem, miss?" he asked casually, standing more than a head taller than the petite girl.

Shampoo saw red mist. They had toyed with her, annoyed her and denied her. And now this _man _had dare put his hand on her. An Amazon champion. The guard's large body left a shallow impact crater as Shampoo made him one with the wall. Two more bulky guards received similar treatment as they rushed her.

"You! You are nothing!" she proclaimed haughtily. She snarled predatorily as a slew of security staff began filing in toward her. Almost all weak men, she noted in fury. Were there no warriors to challenge her? The Amazon moved to mangle the approaching cannon fodder, when a slew of clicking noises cut through her haze of outrage. Shampoo's eyes levelled on the dozen handguns aimed quite purposely at her person. "…Uh oh."

o-o-o

Some miles away, another traveller, accompanied by two trusted vassals, pursued the same quarry. If for a (not entirely) dissimilar reason. The Musk Prince was excited to finally experience the outside world he had until so recently only read about. Arrangements had already been made for a boat to be ready when they reached Shanghai. A voyage across the seas, he thought, fanciful images of sea-faring drama flashing through his mind. One may have described the Musk Prince as being giddy as a schoolgirl at whole idea, had one little concern for their own regularity of breathing.

But, Herb _was _anxious. He couldn't wait to finally encounter the true reason for this adventure he endeavoured upon. Carefully unrolling the canvas, he gazed starry-eyed at the beautiful portrait that Mint had produced. He'd known before that the wolf-boy was a competent artist, but he had never imagined he was capable of creating something so bedevilling.

The royal heir recalled how several days previous, while seeking out the lupine lad, he had happened upon the painting, displayed in Mint's quarters. His aides had found him there, hours later, completely enraptured by what he saw. He hadn't known until an older warrior had explained that the beautiful red-haired visage in the painting was a 'woman'. Herb concluded that he had fallen in love. Of this he was quite certain.

Hearing Mint's account of how he'd overheard a confrontation in the forest just outside Musk territory, the dragon-prince had bid him continue. The youth explained how he had surreptitiously watched the lavender-haired individual threaten the red-haired one. He'd returned to the palace in a dreamlike state and immediately set about reproducing the strangely compelling faces on canvas.

Herb had sent him after them upon hearing this. He had to find out where the red-haired woman was going. Although Mint never caught up with the girl, an eavesdropped conversation between the purple haired woman and a strange foreigner had revealed that their destination was in the capital of the island nation, Japan. The wolf boy had returned to relay the information to his lord. However, Herb had not been idle during Mint's reconnaissance.

The sagacious prince realised that meeting the red-haired dream without any experience of dealing with a woman could lead to gracelessness on his part. That simply would not do. When eventually he did meet the girl, it would shame him for artless blundering to mar the moment. So, taking the Musk artefact, the Chiisuiton, in hand, Herb made his way to the magical pools which had so must significance in his tribe's long history.

After capturing a wild monkey, the curious Musk Prince was lead by a small person in concealing, large robes, to the Nyaniichuan. He knew from his history lessons that it was indeed the spring of drowned girl. Assuming the person was a relative of the regular Guide, and not really caring, Herb had tossed the small animal into the spring. He readied the locking ladle, as a transformed figure emerged.

He had found himself entranced with the strange protrusions on the neo-girl's chest. The portrait hadn't had _those_. Slack-jawed, he offered no resistance as the freshly cursed primate angrily knocked him into the water.

Herb chuckled. That monkey girl had inadvertently done him a favour. The naked girl had snatched the Chiisuiton in Herb's shocked state. He was fortunate that the heavily dressed person had been in the way of the locking water's splash. The stand-in guide seemed to take it rather badly though, having run off screaming about some demon in a bandanna or whatnot.

After leaving Jusenkyo, Herb decided that there could be no better preparation for meeting the girl of his dreams than experiencing the world through a girl's perspective himself. He allotted a portion each day to spend in his cursed form - generally the times when he sent Mint and Lime away on busy-work.

Mint had returned that day a with destination and a name. 'Ranchan'. He couldn't wait to meet her, and find out if she too possessed those 'breasts' like the monkey-girl and his own cursed form had.

o-o-o

Amidst a crisply cold queuing area, a heavily clothed girl buried her gloveless hands deep into her pockets, the weather doing the extremities absolutely no favours. She subconsciously hummed along with a familiar Proclaimers tune as the song pumped into the headphones beneath her woolly hat. The game would be kicking off any minute. She had better haul arse if she hoped to make it to her seat in time. The young woman hesitated, frowning at the match programs she'd essentially be abandoning if she did so. She grinned when she spied a late comer, calling, "Programs for the semi-final! Fanzines for Celtic and Hearts!" Her predatory grin warmed into a smile of recognition when the figure's dusty face became visible through the light snowfall.

"Sweet Jayzus, _Hibiki_!"

"A-Angie?" ventured the Japanese boy. He hadn't encountered anybody remotely familiar since the locker room in Hawaii. "Is, is that really you?"

"No, its Billy Connoly," the freckled girl rolled her eyes at the boy's flummoxed expression. "Of course its me. 'Aven't seen you in bloody _years_. What've ya been doin', ya gallivantin' bollox?" she inquired, good-naturedly.

Ryoga broke into a gleeful simper. At last, a familiar face. He wondered what Angie was doing in Antarctica, but noticed the much sparser snow, and soon realised that he'd misplaced himself again.

"Everywhere, ah think," he answered honestly, in English. Then something clicked. "Wait jus'a sec? Did you say Hearts are playin' reet now?"

"Yep," she winked. "In the cup semi, no less."

"Then what are we waitin' fer?" He asked urgently, reaching into his pack for his wallet. "Lead me te'de damn ticket booth so ah can see mah boys hammer them Glasgow poseurs!"

o-o-o

_You are a contemptible creep. You understand this, don't you?_

_As per agreement, I'll reinstate the curb on that clan-curse of his. 'As soon as he's back in China.'_

o-o-o

Shampoo brooded at what she'd been reduced to. She had had to keep a low profile since the incident in Chengdu. Being a wanted fugitive was not to her liking. After leaving (she refused to call it fleeing, even in her head) through a hastily made portal in the airport wall, and thanking Artemis that something had distracted the gun-toting security officers, she had travelled deeper into the city. Her plan to return to the airport after dark and sneak onto a departing aircraft was somewhat set back when she noticed what was very clearly her own face being displayed on multitudes of televisions in shop displays. Others noticed her noticing. Police had come then. And lots of vehicles. She never imagined how difficult it would be to lose a helicopter from one's tail while roof hopping.

But lost it, she had. And, enjoyable as the chase had been, it hadn't taken excessive contemplation on her part to decide to leave the city and seek alternative means of travel. A low-key cross country tour later, and (minus a bonbori that she had abandoned in Wuhan after soiling it) the girl had reached a small fishing village in the Zhejiang province of the country. And there she found herself, wringing wet after being splashed by spray, bribing a hairy man for passage on the filthy skiff he called a boat.

He'd agreed to ferry her to Japan for a suspiciously low price. Not that she was especially concerned. Someone of her training could stay awake the entire journey if need be. And breaking the ill-guided limbs of any crew member who dared get too close to her would relieve some stress. She made a mental note not to cripple any of them, though. It might adversely affect the journey's swiftness, if those manning the boat were unable to operate it efficiently. Or, y'know, walk.

The unshaven captain grinned evilly as he pocketed the money he'd taken from the naïve girl. He'd get the rest later, of course. He approached the bar where his crew were taking their last chance to become intimate with some hard liquor, before leaving in the morning. They would definitely perk up when he revealed that the pretty young thing that had approached the sailors earlier would be joining them on their next trip to Honshu.

He pushed aside the door to the clichéd bar, chuckling,

"Boys, wait until you all get a load of th…" Carrying themselves like good, honest, stereotypical sailors, his crew had apparently gotten a little rowdy. He expected the odd black eye and band aid, but usually, the men weren't bound, gagged and unconscious on the bar tiles when he returned from various errands around a town. "What in the name of -" his swear was choked off as a hand locked around his throat, lifting him bodily from the floor. He was swivelled around to face a pair of cold blue-green eyes.

"Let's you and I have a little discussion about proper comportment, shall we?"

o-o-o

A muscular boy frowned at the base of the large tower above him, and at the suspiciously large number of French-speaking people present. Ryoga was beginning to damn the foolish embarrassment that had prevented him from allowing Angie to lead him to men's room. At this rate, the second half of the match would begin before he could relieve himself and get back to the stands. He entered a random building, and approached the counter, asking for the restroom.

"Excusez-moi. Où est le W.C?"

"Cosa?" replied the Italian vendor.

"Oh, merde," he sighed, resignedly.

o-o-o

In the hilly forests of Hubei, a clear afternoon sky was witness to a young man of perhaps eighteen years engaging in a slow kata. The tall figure maintained a deliberate and unhurried pace, belying the speed he had at his disposal. Eyes closed, he strained his senses to attune to world around him. His mahogany coloured hair fluttered gently, as the wind carried the man an unexpected message. There, just on the edge of his hearing, was the sound of an upset, female voice.

Quickly securing his dragon scale vest, the spry figure hastily ran toward the sound. He arrived at a gently running brook, eyes searching for the imperilled female. Indeed, there was a girl bathing in the waist-deep water, but certainly no indication of anybody in trouble. Satisfied that his intervention wouldn't be needed, the man made to leave when, seemingly of their own volition, his eyes wandered back to the lithe form sitting in the stream.

Her back was mostly to him, but he was able to see enough of the mysterious girl's face and body to wholeheartedly label her a first class sex-kitten. The multi-coloured, but predominantly pink hair was the kicker. Normally, at this point the man's sense of propriety would rouse in full force and prompt him to withdraw. However, he had been without much human contact since the humiliating events of a Shanghai strip club quite some time before. Thus, engrossed as he was in appraising the exotic girl's body, it didn't register when her slit gaze shifted to stare directly at the gawking interloper. He was woken from his visual study of the of the water-sprite when he spied the covert approach of a large panther, bearing down on the girl. He sprang into motion, as the girl raised her arms in terror.

o-o-o

Herb sulked in a huff, as she sat back into the cool stream. Mint and Lime were supposed to have been off gathering food and firewood, and she had relaxed her guard… Only to open her eyes to the entranced stares of the two Musk warriors… Standing in the water… right beside her. She didn't know what had come over her, but instead of levelling the two jerks with a ki blast, she had shrieked like… like, well, she didn't know what. The tiger and wolf boy were as surprised as Herb herself was by the outburst, and had quickly fled, leaving a nonplussed dragon princess flinging energy after them.

Still sitting in befuddlement a minute or so later, she felt yet another set of eyes upon her. Also absently noting the approach of a leopard, she glared at the tall man, who was unashamedly drinking in the sight of her. The sheer effrontery! The entire situation was stirring indistinct reactions in the cursed Musk heir. Perturbed by these events, Herb pinpointed the one emotion that she currently felt with which she was familiar. Anger. Gathering her energy, she raised her arms to simultaneously blast the skulking cat and the impolite gawker.

Before she could release the fury of her ki, the man had dived at and beyond her. He levelled a kick across the cat's jaw that sent the wild feline into harmless unconsciousness. He landed by water's bank, and turned a relieved smile on her.

Damnit! Why had he done that? Now he'd confused her even more! And he was still looking at her naked body, too! Again, the only recognisable emotion Herb felt was frustrated anger at her inability to understand the source of her own inaction. She grabbed it and locked eyes with the rescuer/pervert/intruder/deviant. In a tone she had expected to sound far more imperious than it did, she promulgated,

"I am Herb, heir to the Musk, and I would know the name of the man who presumes to spy upon my royal person!" Proper forms had to observed after all. It wouldn't do to kill the stranger without names and titles being exchanged. The man's smile faded, and golden-eyed girl nervously wondered what was wrong. He looked absolutely miserable upon hearing Herb's demand.

"I…," he spluttered, "I have to go!" turning and bolting away from the brook.

"Hey!" Herb protested loudly. "Get back here, you jerk!" she called after him. Had those been… tears? She ran from the stream, not finding any sign of him. "What's wrong?" she asked the forest. "Come back," she insisted softly. "…Please?"

A nearby shrub rustled unnaturally. She padded up to the foliage, and pulled it aside. Impatiently thumping the figures she revealed, Herb stalked back to the stream.

"Breasts," breathed Lime dreamily, as Mint nodded in agreement.

o-o-o

"Why?" choked the man as he ran from the exotic beauty. "Why did she have to ask?" He sniffed, as reached his campsite a gathered up his pack. The serene atmosphere now seemed dull and lifeless. Oh, why had she had to ask _that? _

Of course she was going to ask. So would any others in the future. He would just have to live with it, like he'd always done.

No! He was through bearing this unjust curse. It was time to take things into his own hands and finally begin to shape his own destiny. He opened an ever-present canteen, and unceremoniously dumped the cold contents over himself. He rolled his massive shoulders experimentally, before smoothly taking off. As he flew west over the forest, he glanced down. Perhaps then… he thought wistfully, his neck craning to gaze back the way he came.

Resolute in his goal, he turned to face forward, toward Qinghai, and his birthplace.

o-o-o

Oh thank you gods, it's a miracle!

It had quickly become apparent to the meandering youth that he wasn't going to see the remainder of match. A shame, that. (He'd have to ask the wee lass how it went the next time he was in the neighbourhood.) This acceptance sadly did not serve to increase the volume of his bladder. Ryoga's mission had devolved into the dubious quest for a restroom. In the wilds of a Siberian mountain range, such proprieties were a menial thing. Yet, modesty seemed far less trivial in the heavily populated, urban areas in which he repeatedly found himself since wandering away from the soccer game.

Few would assume it an especially difficult task for person to locate a men's room in a sprawling city centre. But fewer still would assume it somebody of Ryoga Hibiki's eccentricities who was doing the searching. Every bathroom door he opened seemed to lead outdoors. That the sun, or moon as it may be, appeared in vastly varying positions in the sky each time he happened upon a new locale no longer registered. Hours had passed. The urgency of his search inexorably snowballed.

It was when he was prepared to bite the bullet and just make due with the _next _female restroom he'd inevitably stumble across, that he closed another non-descript door behind him. And found Nirvana. Out of habit rather than any true requirement, he secured the door to the Hibiki bathroom.

Washed and refreshed, hours later, he exited the room, and stalked about his home, finding evidence that someone had been there not too long ago. A dusty pile of pages with his mother's letterhead graced the living room table. He nonchalantly evaded several of her burglar traps, and snatched the top page from the pile. Addressed to his older sister; it asked how things were progressing with that foreign boyfriend of hers, and if his divorce proceedings with that Julia woman were through with, yet. That his sister was married, with a toddler, and lived in North America indicated that it hadn't been the Hibiki matriarch who'd recently tidied the family's household. In the kitchen, he discovered a note from his father. Indeed, he'd indeed been home, less than a fortnight earlier. He had left some dried provisions and kibble for any family member who chanced to find their ancestral home.

Kibble?

Ryoga's features grew into a huge fanged grin as he heard the cheerful bark echo throughout the household. A black and white blur raced into the kitchen and onto his compliant form, knocking the boy to the floor amid throes of laughter. "Shirokuro!" he smiled, ruffling the dog's fur affectionately. "How have you been, girl?"

After feeding the usually self-sufficient Hibiki pet, the animal led Ryoga to a somewhat musty chamber he recognised as his own room. He petted Shirokuro thankfully, grateful that he'd at least be able to drop off his souvenirs. The sight of his old bed sent a wave of desire throughout the frankly exhausted boy. Without preamble, he shucked the blanket over himself, and promptly began getting lost in dreamland.

Tongue lolling out in the canine equivalent of geniality, the dog joined her master on the bed, laying across his dozing frame. Amazed that two of her owners had visited within such a close span, Shirokuro followed the boy into contented oblivion.

o-o-o

_You **are **aware that that dog's presence can negate the curse you've been so callously abusing?_

_It'll be worth it._

o-o-o

As Shampoo quietly left the docks, her mind again wondered back to the strange behaviour of the boat's crew throughout the entire voyage to Japan. Rather than carrying themselves like the boorish sailors (that even the somewhat backwoods Amazon found clichéd) she had witnessed when she first approached the ship's captain, they had conducted themselves like… She reached for an analogy. Like Amazons. Male Amazons.

Appropriate as it may have been considering her status, it was nonetheless quite unexpected. She also had the oddest suspicion that their deferential and overly polite carriage was less rooted in respect and awe than it was in uneasy apprehension and flat out fear for their own well-being.

That was strange. She hadn't behaved at all belligerently before boarding the vessel, intending to mete out necessary discipline on the journey itself. Perhaps those bandages and rope burns several of the men had sported when she arrived on board that first morning had something to do with the peculiarly complaisant etiquette?

Why also, were they so eager to be off again as soon as Shampoo had departed? They had seemed afraid of dallying for some reason.

Scanning the horizon, Shampoo dismissed the sailors' behaviour as irrelevant. Numerous signs in indecipherable text greeted her exit from the pier. She was in an unfamiliar country. Although she had never travelled much of China before undertaking this quest, at least there she spoke the language. This wouldn't be as straightforward as she initially judged. But no matter. A true Amazon Champion relished a challenge.

Orientating herself, she took a moment to look 'through'the city in her direct line of sight. Beyond this Yokohama, to the north, waited her husband, and the one who held his shackles. Perhaps, she considered, she may even intercept them. It was not that far-fetched a notion. Her quarry would likely have relaxed their hegira when they landed on their home country. Should she locate this 'Tendo Dojo' in good time, she could prepare a most effective ambush.

Tapping her teeth with a calloused index finger, she ruminated over several possible fortifications that would also aid her efforts. Why, with several volleys of darts tipped with neurotoxin venom, and a tripwire or four she could… She brushed off the idea, reminding herself that this was a smash and grab mission, not a war. Being pursued by another small army of police was not on her wish list. The incident in Chengdu had somewhat soured her on the whole 'wrath of the state' gig. The Amazon had best keep the killing limited to her target, and definitely not body slam any security or police officers through walls where others could see. As the buildings in the distance grew, their shadows swallowing her up, she decided a boycott on pummelling non-warriors would be a most prudent course of action.

o-o-o

It was growing very difficult to keep his thoughts from her features. Those perfect, determined lips; those rubicund, burgundy eyes that sparkled like…

And there he nearly lost it again. With a preparatory breath he recommenced the mental gymnastics of cataloguing all his knowledge of the Japanese language, integrating various phrases he'd heard the previous few days into the mess.

It would be awkward. But he was used to that. Hidden in plain sight, the spectacled man did his best not to look the lavender-haired beauty in the eye. She passed by his mumbling figure, lost in her own thoughts. Clothed in dark flowing silks, the tall young man continued to stare across the docks that the… completely random girl had just left.

Eyeing the various signs, he busied himself, repeatedly reading them for some minutes before slumping from exertion. Chengdu had definitely been the hardest. Swinging a grappling hook that accurately, too swiftly for untrained eyes to see was a difficult task on its own. Forcing himself not to think on why he was doing it - while he was doing it - was more a considerably more gruelling affair. He'd still managed it. Choking now would be shameful.

He had already done his homework. He'd be with Shampoo all the way to Tokyo and the Tendo Dojo. There he would encounter the man Shampoo was to marry and the girl she was to murder. After he'd found those two he'd…err… Well, the _original_ plan was easy. Covertly protect and aid Shampoo in finding her prey. Kill her prey, the boy specifically, philandering devil that he was. Leading Shampoo on like that, that playboy deserved all that he got! His Shampoo was so pure, so unpresumptuous and patient… Certainly Mousse had been sure that she was. But, her actions in the airport had struck a blow at the gut of his unquestionable faith in Shampoo's good judgement.

Unable to help her on the rooftops, he had had stand back and hope she could evade the chasing police forces on her own. To his monumental relief, she had consummately escaped after leading the chopper on merry run-around high above the city streets.

Unfortunately, with his confidence in Shampoo ruffled uncomfortably, his original conviction of this 'Ukyo's' womanising nature and the arbitrary death sentence he placed upon him, had been distressingly shaken. The trip hadn't eased it, and with each display of rash behaviour on Shampoo's part, his assuredness in her incisiveness took one on the chin.

Sure, anybody could lose their cool in an airport, but what she did to that guy in Wuhan for hitting on her had seemed… excessive. Mousse _had_ planned to kick his ass afterward, but he didn't have the heart considering what Shampoo had inserted in there.

He came to worry that he had followed Shampoo to kill a victim of circumstance being punished only for a laudable display of skill. His concern aggrandised when he realised that the other one, the girl, was the victim of much the same happenstance as her companion. The darkly clothed man's personal odds that the village champion would experience a mini-epiphany like his before finding the pair were slimmer than Shampoo's taught waist. This too, added fuel to the fire of his growing unease.

Making a mental note to finish his homework before turning it in, Mousse raised an eyebrow in consternation. He understood a decision would have to be made, and soon. His face betrayed his disquiet as he followed after his love at a more sedate pace.

o-o-o

Ryoga was cheerily walking Shirokuro down the street. It was nice to enjoy the morning for once. He cradled several packages in one arm, amused at the notion that _he _could be trusted upon to buy groceries for the Hibiki household. His faithful pet had stuck to him like Clingfilm since he found his way back to his home. She must have been lonely, by herself all this time. His grin faded a moment but came back in full force when his thoughts predictably turned to Ukyo and Ranma. He was far from them now, but he knew that they would eventually have to return to school. And his effective guide dog had lead him there on more than one occasion.

But he was struck by a horrible thought. What if Saotome-san moved them onto another school like Ukyo had told him he'd often done before? He might never find them. The idea of never again enjoying the company of those who made his life worth living made him quiver with dread.

He stepped inside his front door, frantically contemplating means to avoid such an unhappy conclusion. He could check up on the pair's whereabouts (if they were indeed reregistered at another school) at his own…

Fist sledged palm with a loud 'Aha!'

"Shirokuro! C'mere girl!" The dog was quickly beside her master, panting patiently, leash dragging behind. Finished restocking the kitchen, he grabbed his backpack from a corner, and began rifling through its innards. Plucking a cloudy plastic bag from the pack, he reverently inspected its contents. He removed a large flask, which he carefully placed on the table at which he sat. He tossed aside the bag, not noticing the gash on its side.

The fanged boy resumed his search and produced another plastic-wrapped package. He tugged at his bandanna, relieved that he hadn't had to resort to wearing the t-shirt he had briefly lent Ukyo for her cursed form. Ryoga hadn't washed it because he…ah, hadn't had the chance. With a tracker like Shirokuro searching for this scent, he'd find Ukyo in no time when she returned. And by extension, Ranma.

'Ranma', he thought gazing out a window, a dreamy haze coming over him.

He looked up at Shirokuro sniffing curiously at the container before him. "No girl!" He shied her away. "That's for Ukyo-san." His eyes turned to the flask, frowning as he slowly turned the container around on the flat surface. "Oh no!" he cried, rising in reaction to seeing the long, thin slash midway through the bottle, which went tumbling as he incidentally knocked the table. He rocked backwards and tried to grab the airborne piece of furniture in a flapping hand. The table cracked in half before falling to the floor, amid curses from the boy. Ryoga smacked himself on the forehead as he gave the chunk of wood in his hand a resigned glare.

Glancing down at the remains of the living-room table, his shoulders moved into a long-suffering slump. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt around his hand and picked up the flask. It was empty. "Someone up there has it in for me." His lamentation ceased as he heard a piteous moan from beneath the shattered table. He urgently tossed aside the pieces of wood, freeing Shirokuro from the debris.

She stood, shaking large splinters from her long mane.

Ryoga's eye twitched as a pair of golden eyes peeked from beneath two-toned hair at his own. A vein threatened to bulge on his brow until Shirokuro's state of dress, somewhat irrelevant prior to this point, made him grab his nose reflexively.

"…Rrga?" questioned the naked girl, before grinning at her hands. "Rrga!" she chimed, grabbing the frozen martial artist in a grateful hug. She let go abruptly and began ecstatically bouncing around the house, giggling like a loon. Ryoga just stared passively ahead.

"Oh, goodie. I turned the dog into a girl." With a vacant expression, he began weighing the ramifications of what he'd just done. "This is just freakin' peachy." He glanced at the prancing dog-girl, or was it girl-dog? Whatever, his irate inner monologue dismissed the question. Great. Just great. Finally home and something _has _to happen to screw it up. And he'd lost the water, too. "How the frick am I supposed to…" he trailed off, vexed, staring at his eyelids. When his brown pupils reappeared, the pique was gone. "To hell with it. I'm sixteen. I'm entitled to the occasional screw-up." He barked out a brief laugh. "Someone else can take responsibility for this craptastic quagmire."

Reflexively donning his backpack, Ryoga decided he needed some air. Moving with a strangely detached calm, he left a hastily scribbled note on the kitchen table and exited through the front door.

Inside, Shirokuro, who was staring wondrously at the now far more colourful world, paused in her glorying as she noticed Ryoga's absence. A word she had heard countless times that now suddenly made real sense came to her lips.

"Stay!" And with her first word, the dog-girl dashed out of the house. Seeing what her rapidly increasing intelligence told her was her de facto mentor in this strange, new and oddly high world.

o-o-o

This city was so frustrating! Following the directions of foreign signs was challenging enough, but she despaired at the uphill battle in store when even locals were unable to direct her with any surety. Finding the location of the Tendo Dojo had been painless. Actually getting there made her feel like someone had glued a jar of gerbils to her kisser, and set a blowtorch on slow burn to the end of the jar so that the rodents had to eat through her face to escape…

"Okay, now I'm getting screwy…" she muttered to herself in Mandarin. "And not in that pleasant Ucchan way," she added, blushing. Her joviality disintegrated when, amongst the din of the bustling Tokyo street, she spied a being of nightmare approaching. "The demon!" she hissed, horrified. Her greatest fears were confirmed at the sight of the enslaved woman trailing him, whom she overheard him bid call him 'master'.

"Alright!" she cried, her face becoming a mask of resolve. She had to finish it. If the hell spawn had pursued her this far, it wouldn't stop just because she'd fulfilled the obligations with which she burdened herself on the day of the tournament.

Gritting her teeth, she drew her lone bonbori, and looked determinedly at her opponent. Loosing a pealing war cry, a lavender blur flew towards its target, it's intent; lethal.

o-o-o

Mousse hummed in appreciation at the coffee in his hands.

"Robust," he commented in Japanese, "yet ethereally smooth and soothing. Like the sound of an over-stimulated rabbit's heart monitor beeping in time with the roaring sea, while children exchange flower necklaces dipped in hummus…"

He paused, reviewing what he had just said, a waiter looking on bewilderment.

"Okay, now I'm getting screwy…" He emptied the dregs of his mug, and motioned the man over. "And not in that pleasant Shampoo way."

"You want me to get you a decaf?" asked the waiter warily.

"You know what?" began Mousse, blinking behind his glasses at the waiter's afterimages. "That's probably a good idea." The café employee nodded agreeably and left to fetch Mousse another drink. Perhaps the short-sighted young man should have paid heed to waiter's warning that ordering a sextuple espresso wasn't the wisest choice available? Having never drank coffee before, Mousse had opted for the old baptism of fire routine… and was now fighting off a severe fit of giggles.

Grinning widely, he looked up and out the one way mirror that served as the café's window. Passing by, right when he expected her to be, was Shampoo, still looking disoriented at the unnavigable surroundings. As he watched her walking across his line of sight, he saw something that he wouldn't have expected to see. Ever.

Looking out at the very fast, very loud, and _very _naked girl (wearing only a collar and leash!) approaching on a line that would lead her directly into Shampoo's path, Mousse loudly called, "Can I have that decaf to go, please?"

o-o-o

Looking over his shoulder, Ryoga had never felt so mortified. (Even though that time he had confessed his love to someone he thought was Ukyo came close. That cross-dressing little weirdo would pay some day!) Tailing him was the girl the water had made out of his pet, still unclothed save the leash and collar, dangling conspicuously down her back beneath her two-tone hair. All this, he could almost live with. Just about.

Unfortunately, she was repeatedly howling 'Stay, master!' at the top of her considerably powerful lungs, and regardless of how quickly he moved, he _couldn't_ shake her! So, he did the next best thing. He ignored her.

When the hell had she learned to speak? What on earth had that water done to her? Turned her into a girl, body _and _mind?

Of course! Just like with Ranma! Great. Now, he'd gone and depressed himself again. He couldn't ask the person behind him to just resume their life as a dog, and act as his tracker… Could he? She was calling him 'master' after all, he mused, deciding to ignore that she'd only resorted to the title after mispronouncing 'Ryoga' several times.

"Hello, Iwata-obasan," politely greeted Ryoga with a deferential bow as he passed an old lady in a very traditional kimono, serenely watering her flowers.

"Ah, Hibiki-kun," she smiled looking up from her gardening. "Found that blaggard that stole your lady love yet, have you?" she asked playfully.

"Don't worry about _him_, Iwata-san," directed Ryoga. "He's out of the picture."

"Excellent," commented the old woman, slowly clapping her hands together once. Ryoga noticed her eyes drift and widen. "And, is this, ah, the uh, lady friend, you spoke of?" she said indicating the naked young lady wearing the leash peeking from behind the boy's large backpack.

"Huh?"

"'Ferr…en'," tested the dog-girl. "Frur…friend!" she exclaimed, yipping triumphantly.

"Er, of course dear," replied the old woman with a half smile. "Ryoga, come here a moment." He complied, sheepishly moving into the garden and behind a hedge where the cursed dog couldn't see them. Ryoga glanced up and blinked at the change in the way the usually hunched up old lady held herself. "What's going on here, boy?" she demanded. "Is that woman on something?"

"No! Never! Of course not! I swear to you that I wouldn't allow such an -"

"Hush, I believe you," she placated the ranting boy. "And I couldn't smell liquor. Then why is she speaking like that?"

"She's only learning Japanese today," he answered honestly.

"Really?" drawled Iwata peeking through the shrubbery at the chanting girl. "A foreigner, eh?" Ryoga made to correct her, but decided some truths were best kept secret. "What's her name?"

"Um, Shiro-, I mean 'Shiko'…er, 'Yoshiko'!"

"And about the naked thing?"

Truths like this one.

"Well, the thing about that is…"

"You wanted to draw the neighbourhood's attention to what a fine catch you've made?" she supplied. "Well, if so, mission accomplished." Ryoga's eyes bulged, noticing the many dozens of people congregating outside of Mrs. Iwata's home. "Yoshiko-chan certainly is a healthy girl, isn't she?"

"Iwata-obasan!"

"Don't look at me. You're the ones who decided your girlfriend should show off her goodies to the locals."

"Its not what you think!"

"Hmm? Oh yes, silly me. The collar! You two are playing dom games, aren't you?"

"Kill me…"

"Not that I disapprove, but there are certain proprieties to be followed." She frowned at Ryoga and whispered. "Such as not doing it in public in broad daylight." She looked out over her fence and placed a finger to her lips. "Oh, dear, Hibiki-kun. It appears that the police will be arriving shortly. I'd suggest you move along with your lady friend hastily if you don't wish to be arrested."

"Eeep!" grimaced the dark-eyed boy, leaping out over the shrubbery, away from her garden. Without preamble, he raced down the street.

"Or on second thought, you could both come inside. I'm sure I could persuade the officers that … oh," she breathed, spying Ryoga's dust cloud in the distance, quickly pursued by his energetic and rather open-minded girlfriend. "Good luck, Yoshiko-chan!" the old woman called. The girl turned back momentarily, flashing her a victory sign. She exhaled with an aged smile. "Oh, to be that young again." She looked to the sky. "I do hope they remember the safety word."

"Will you stop following me? Heel or something!" bellowed Ryoga over his shoulder.

"No!" declared the girl resolutely. "Stay, friend!"

"I am not your friend, Shirokuro. I'm your owner!"

"Own…er?" she repeated.

"As in 'master'," he informed her. When she didn't respond, he thought he'd finally lost her. But when he glanced back, she was still keeping pace, a determined expression on her face.

His head whipped forward when a soprano scream invaded his senses. "Holy oof!" Ryoga's feet left the ground as the bonbori violently whipped his head backwards at what looked a dangerously obtuse angle. He landed heavily several metres behind the shocked dog-girl. "What in the heck just hit m-?" his question died as he was answered by a vertical stomp onto his kidneys and back, shooting the air out of his lungs.

Gasping for air, he gingerly picked himself up, and wheezed angrily at the person who had attacked him.

"What pant do you think pant you're doing? If you want to fight me, challenge me to match like a real m- Hey, its you!"

"No!" cried Shampoo. Those blows should have broken his neck and backbone. "You is true demon! I kill!"

"Huh?" asked Ryoga intelligently, as the lavender-haired girl from China tossed a dagger at his face. A bandanna intercepted the projectile, and another made to slice off a public tree branch above Shampoo. The dog-girl blinked as a grappling hook deflected the airborne weapon off course, and promptly disappeared from view. The incident had apparently gone unnoticed by both combatants. "Listen here, lady! I've had about enough crap piled on me as of late to have to deal with whatever your issues are, too."

Saying, so, Ryoga gave a huge swing of his bamboo umbrella, dashing after the whirling missile which Shampoo instinctively ducked. "Gotcha!" he grinned, grabbing her in a bear hug. She struggled but her effort may as well have been a token gesture for her lack of progress. "Now you're going to tell me exactly why you're contriving to pile more crap onto the garbage heap that's been my existence as of late."

"Amazon womans rather die than give in to-" she blinked as a heavy weight smacked the demon's jaw. Taking full advantage of the distraction, she drove a knee forward with enough force to make every man who had gathered to watch the naked chick… the battle, wince in sympathy.

Ryoga fell to the pavement clutching the Hibiki Jewels, amidst wails of horror from the male spectators. Any harder, he thought, and they'd have been as lost as the rest of the family.

Shampoo gulped deeply, as she got back her breath. She scanned the area for her anonymous benefactor. _He_ couldn't be here, could he?

Cries of 'He can't be human!' and 'Maybe its just a _really_ ugly chick!' alerted Shampoo that her fight was far from over.

Snarling furiously, Ryoga slowly got back to his vertical base, using his umbrella to prop himself up. **"THAT," **he roared savagely, **"WAS NOT A SMART MOVE!" **Aura writhing wildly, he levelled eerily glowing eyes on the Amazon.

Champion or no, Shampoo knew when she was outmatched. Desperately seeking distraction, she pointed behind him, exclaiming, "Look, there a naked woman there!"

"**I AM _AWARE_ OF THAT!" **he growled.

"Oh… bye!" and with that she fled through the city streets, the bandanna-wearing demon in hot pursuit.

o-o-o

"If I recall correctly," thought Mousse aloud over the din of approaching police sirens, "that guy has navigational skills that make a lemming look shrewd." Shampoo would lose him in no time, he realised. He could track her down from the trademark trail of debris whenever he needed to. But first things first.

"So, what's your name?" asked Mousse of the leashed nude lady.

o-o-o

She turned, and breathed in relief, seeing that she had the demon outpaced. Another hundred metres or so and she could lose him completely. She made to leap atop a small diner, when something brought her up short, effectively yanking her back to the earth. As she fell, Shampoo glanced at the black and yellow cloth locked around her wrist. He had tethered her, she realised as she awkwardly landed on her feet.

"You're mine, now," grinned the hellspawn, baring his inhuman fangs.

"Never!" cried the girl defiantly, futilely trying to rip at the bandanna. It was like iron!

Ryoga tugged on his line like a determined fisherman who had caught the feistiest fish in the lake. "You never beat me, man-demon!" grimaced the girl, as a tug-of-war ensued.

"Hey, I know you Amazons have the this girl-power thing going on, but _man_-demon!" retorted the boy as he pulled.

"Is what you are!" countered Shampoo, dragging back.

"What I am," hissed Ryoga, giving the cloth a mighty heave, "is royally pissed off!" Shampoo screamed as she was jerked bodily from the ground, careening over her angry aggressor and behind a nearby takoyaki stall. Ryoga peered around himself intently. "Where did you go?" he demanded, in his ire forgetting the bandanna still wrapped about his forearm. "I'll find you!" he promised taking off down the street, an unwilling companion in tow. Neither noticed when the buildings gave way to forest.

o-o-o

Mousse bounded across the roofs of Tokyo, patiently awaiting a response from his cargo.

"Yoshiko, you say?" pondered Mousse when the girl finally gave her answer.

o-o-o

Shampoo gulped at the demon's latest bellowed promise of pain. She had become very confused when she gathered her bearings enough to realise that she was in the wilderness. The city they had fought in was nowhere on the horizon. As worried as this made her, she was frightened to call out for fear the beast would go through with his threats. She was taking enough punishment as things were, being dragged roughly through all manner of extreme environments by her oblivious tormentor. He may not have had the girl's speed, but his stamina appeared endless.

After another twenty minutes of unremitting abuse, she could take no more.

"You stop!" she called out. "Am right here!"

"Huh?" muttered the fanged boy, abruptly halting. Shampoo dropped to the ground with relief. He turned, and grinned nastily. "So there you are." He stepped grimly towards her prone form. "I don't know how you've hidden from me," he said grabbing at his umbrella, fighting off a sweat drop when he saw the bandanna still attached to his wrist, "but for all the crap you've put me through, you shall pay!" He raised the umbrella, glad the girl didn't whimper in fear, lest he lose his nerve to chastise her. Strangely, not only did she seem unafraid, but she was chuckling sinisterly…

He looked up, and couldn't help but laugh resignedly at the three dozen Amazon women levelling their weapons at him.

o-o-o

Still puzzled as to why the demon would transport her back to the one place she would be safe from him, Shampoo entered her home to find her great-grandmother perched upon a stool in the main room. The antediluvian Amazon turned her large eyes on the girl, and shook her head.

"So you _are_ back, Granddaughter. I had hoped that Xun-Daofu was mistaken…"

"Great-Grandmother," began the girl questioningly. "Are you not happy to see me?" she asked, somewhat hurt at the cold reception.

"At any other time, dear," replied the old woman. "Xun-Daofu also mentioned that you had returned with a 'demon' in tow. Care to elaborate?"

Despite the abrupt change in subject, Shampoo nonetheless answered with enthusiasm.

"Certainly! I first encountered it here in Qinghai. But it stalked me all the way to Japan, and brought me here during a battle in a city there called Tokyo." Her ancestor nodded slowly.

"So I take it that this 'demon' is not the man you were bound to return with as your husband?"

"Of course not, Great-Grandmother! That demon? My husband is still somewhere… in… Japan… oh no…"

"Indeed," agreed Cologne. "You know of the penalty for returning unsuccessfully from such an endeavour?" she asked rhetorically. Shampoo bowed her head in stoic acceptance. "We shall pay a visit to the Pools tomorrow. But first," she motioned with her cane, "let's take a look at this 'demon' you've brought with you."

o-o-o

"So, he made no effort to resist?" asked Cologne, as she made her way to the guardhouse.

"None, Elder," answered Xun-Daofu. "He just came willingly, laughing in own language about the universe conspiring against him, or something to that effect. It was very strange." She opened a door and led the multi-centenarian and her descendent to the outsider's cell. "Here he is," indicated the guardswoman, stopping at a barred area.

The Matriarch peered into the cell, assessing the contentedly snoozing figure on the floor. Even sleeping, his aura was strong, and she may have perceived what was a lingering curse of some sort, but there was no question as to his nature.

"Shampoo," said the old woman exasperatedly, "_this_ is your demon?"

"Yes?" answered the girl hesitantly at the dubious tone in the gravely voice.

"I think you had better explain everything to me, dear," she suggested, rubbing at her temples.

As her Great-Grandchild's story unfolded, Cologne's headache grew.

o-o-o

Ryoga awoke from a wonderful dream involving Ranma, Ukyo and a loofah, to a rather less pretty sight. A person-shaped raisin was eyeing him. He instantly got to his feet, recoiling in horror.

"What the?" blubbered Ryoga.

The incredibly wrinkled but apparently human figure rolled her eyes.

"Young man," she spoke in Japanese, "I understand that my great-granddaughter," she indicated the chagrined looking purple-haired girl beside her in the cell, "and you have had several misunderstandings since you first happened upon one another." He raised an eyebrow, nodding warily. "And during one of these misunderstandings, while operating under the premise that you were a hellspawned demon," the old woman glared at her scion, whose abashed expression never left the floor, "she offered you a boon of the Joketsuzoku in exchange for information, which you provided."

Scanning his memory, Ryoga affirmed her account. "You are a martial artist, are you not?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am," he answered. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"If I taught you a most powerful technique, would you consider this boon fulfilled?"

"You, old lady?" sniggered Ryoga. "You can't be serious?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," she grinned forebodingly. "I could instruct you in a manoeuvre that could allow you destroy the very walls of this building, or the bars of this cell."

"I could do that with my hands," snorted Ryoga. The old woman scrutinised him intently, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes," she agreed. "I imagine you could." Her staff blurred and the boy flew into the cell wall, crashing through all the way to the outside. A large section of the ceiling cascaded atop him.

"Elder, is something the matter?" inquired a guard as she and others ran to the cell.

"Nothing to worry about," answered the old woman as the foreign boy surfaced, grumbling, but unharmed from the rubble. She stroked her chin. Teaching the Bakusai Tenketsu would be pointless, this boy already possessing the toughness the hideous training regimen provided. "Almost like something Happi would do, " the woman mused.

o-o-o

On a mountain face in Japan, lightning flashed, and the last spirit ward precariously hanging from a boulder finally fell away.

o-o-o

"You shall wait here until our return," Cologne directed the muscular lad. "I will ruminate on the appropriate technique in which to train you while Shampoo, my grandson and I journey to Jusenkyo."

"Whatever," drawled Ryoga. "Sure, you might be strong, but that doesn't mean you've anything to teach me. Don't bother hurrying back from - Did you say 'Jusenkyo'?"

o-o-o

Cologne smacked her palm against her forehead as surveyed the boy's progress. He was indeed proving remarkably adept at understanding any technique with which she presented him. However, each proved more superfluous to the boy than the last. Right now, her descendents and she were resting in a clearing, still a day from Jusenkyo, while she goggled as the boy got lost in a dozen places in the vicinity at once.

She decided that the Splitting Cat Hairs technique wouldn't be appropriate either.

o-o-o

Shampoo gulped as the springs came into view. She stared hatefully at the boy in their group, feeling that this 'Ryoga' was directly responsible for the terror she now felt. But Great-Grandmother had forbade her to attack him, or even to let him to get lost since they had left the village. If only she hadn't said what she had about the boon. How was she to know he'd ever be in a position to collect it? Or that her Great-Grandmother would honour a deal made with a demon? If only he had been a demon. One ritual execution in the village centre later, and not only would she have been forgiven returning without the hand of her husband or head of her rival, but she'd have been revered amongst the village.

Only one other living Amazon had successfully detained a demon, and she was currently hopping ahead of Shampoo on her cane. Looking at the Elder made her think of what was awaiting her. Perhaps she would be merciful and choose to battle close to the Nyaniichuan? The girl could only hope. She regulated her breathing as a girl roughly her age approached the group, welcoming them to the Cursed Springs. As she had assumed the Guide would be, this girl was cordial, civil and -

"**I'LL KILL YOU!" **

**_- _**bloodthirsty? The teenage guide had her hands locked around the throat of the dark-haired boy and was squeezing with all her might. **"You die!" **Shampoo could definitely sympathise. Sadly, her father grabbed the murderous girl and pulled her away from the passive Ryoga.

"That's enough of that, young lady," he instructed sternly. She reacted by stretching her arms as far as they could go in the Japanese boy's direction, making various emphatic strangling motions.

"Its okay. She didn't hurt me," he commented in unfeigned nonchalance.

"Aaaargh!" she screamed again, breaking from her father's grasp in a sudden rush of adrenalin. She produced a knife and drove it as hard at Ryoga's torso as her arms would allow.

"Hey!" complained the boy. "I liked that shirt!"

The girl stared at the twisted and broken blade in her palm, and then back at the bane of her existence. She looked like she might hyperventilate. Her face scrunched up ominously as her lungs inflated…

"**WAAAAAHHHH! I HATE YOU! I WISH I'D NEVER MET YOU!" **Shampoo and her father blinked in stereo as the girl dashed away in tears, not stopping until she reached the lone hut in the valley, slamming the door behind her. Moments later, the door reopened, and girl half the other's age stepped out and met the group apologetically.

"Forgive us, Honoured Customers, but Father is very emotional right now."

"Father!" repeated two of the three Amazons. She nodded.

"Is very tragic story. I can answer any questions you need to know about the Springs, Honoured Customers."

"Can you direct us to the Nyaniichuan?" asked the unusually reticent Cologne of the little girl. Shampoo was cheering inside.

"Aiyah, its very dangerous to go near the Nyaniichuan!"

"Don't worry, little one," she soothed her, "I just need to know where it is in order to avoid it." The cheering became somewhat muted. "Hmm," frowned the old woman. "Its seems, dear, that you have another customer besides us." The others present peered about until a cloaked and hooded figure appeared over a natural incline in the land near the pools. The tall man approached the group without hesitance, confidence in his stride.

"Is one of you the Guide?" he asked without introduction. The little girl piped up.

"That's me for the time being, Honoured Customer."

The man pulled back his hood, revealing a face that despite the dubious expression it wore made Shampoo blink twice. He was gorgeous!

"You can't be serious?" he replied looking to the others. They all nodded, confirming the little girl's assertion. "I see."

"How can I help, Honoured Sir?"

"I'm searching for something," he supplied. "Something vital. Something of more significance in the grand scheme of my life than anything else one could fathom…"

"…"

"…"

"Well?" prompted all else present, hanging on his words. He considered all in the group, seemingly deciding something. He leaned in closer and said,

"Mind your own business." Three generations of the same family simultaneously facefaulted.

Ryoga didn't face fault, busy wondering where he had seen the stranger before. Strangely, an image of a speedo popped into the forefront of his mind when he did so. Casting such a horrid mental picture out, he focused on the true reason he had accompanied the Amazons to Jusenkyo. Ukyo curse was lost, but that didn't mean he couldn't get her some more. So he paid attention as the little girl directed the old crone to the Nyaniichuan, as the close-mouthed newcomer seemed unwilling to divulge his business in their presence.

He followed the pair to the unassuming looking spring, setting his pack beside him on the ground. When the ancient Amazon got within three metres of the pool, she nodded silently. She turned to her Great-Granddaughter.

"Shampoo, follow!" she commanded, as she leaped onto the pole jutting from a pool quite a distance away from the Spring of Drowned Girl. Shampoo nodded as her father bid her to be safe. He settled down on a rock beside the little girl.

It took three leaps but Shampoo soon faced off against her ancestor above the accursed Pools of Sorrow. "Shampoo!" the Elder declared, "You broken our laws and disgraced our tribe. You must be trained again!"

"Yes, Great-Grandmother."

"Here I come!"

The battle was hard fought, skilful and very, very brief, as Shampoo careened into a pool not far from where the young girl and Shampoo's father sat.

"My daughter!" cried the man.

"The Maoniichuan," provided the de facto guide, unbidden. "In Jusenkyo, there is a very tragic legend of a cat that drowned in a spring eighteen hundred years ago. Now whoever falls… into… the spring… takes… the body of…"

"What's wrong?" asked Shampoo as she emerged noisily from the spring. The silence was deafening. "What are you all looking at?"

o-o-o

Although they'd quickly readjusted to having the yatai with them again, the travelling martial artists were loathe to manoeuvre the okonomiyaki cart into the heavily wooded forest. One that _apparently_ concealed a famous male martial artists' training ground. Genma agreed with his charges that getting the bulky cart through the omnipresent florae wouldn't be worth the bother. His reasoning being that the ground's location was tightly kept secret only available to true masters of the art. As such, potential customers would be low. The teenagers deigned not to mention the peculiarity of a famous training ground being a secret.

This last stretch before Tokyo, while not having been the most eventful, was certainly the most rigorous. The cursed youths' sensei had decided that his students had both finally attained a level sufficient for him to begin to _truly_ train them.

While not exactly the most arrogant duo, Ranma Saotome and Ukyo Kuonji certainly did not want for confidence in their own abilities. Their mutual dismissive scoffs at Panda-chan's declaration were however, soon to be replaced with mutual groans of pain, as Genma quite handily wiped the floor with each of them. The stocky man had apparently gotten over his odd inability to battle his own child, the one that they'd noticed in China. The pair wondered at how such a powerful martial artist could completely transform into a snivelling coward under the correct circumstances. They were beginning to suspect that their sensei had more layers than he had ever let on.

Nonetheless, this situation was 'bread and butter' Genma Saotome.

It was a male training ground they were approaching. This coupled with the need to guard the yatai, Genma had naturally declared that his manly son and he head onward, while Ukyo remained with the cart. Perhaps setting up roadside and take advantage of the irregular halt in their wandering.

The smallest member of the group had adopted a withered expression.

"Give it a rest, Pop," she groaned. "Even with this manliness shtick, I don't see how I," she pointed a thumb at her chest "am gonna fit in in at a male only dojo, or whatever this place is." She nodded to her recently splashed fiancé. "Take Ucchan, and I'll set up the grill back on the trail. See if I can't earn us some spending money."

"Watch yourself, Sugar," bid the cursed chef, absently flicking his thick, dark braid, turning toward the foliage ahead of them at Ranma's smiling nod. Ukyo unsheathed a spatula and began cutting his way through the plant life.

"What sort of man sends a girl in his place to train?" complained Genma, as he slowly followed.

"The sort of man that turns into a girl who happens to have a girl that turns into a guy handy," she replied after him, easily.

Damn, grumbled Genma silently. The boy has gotten far too comfortable with this curse of his. Oh well, in in six months or so, if all went to plan, which was unquestionable, it would be a non-issue. If he played his cards right, he could even get a lot more out of this than he had originally intended. Best of all, everything could be resolved in such a fashion as to keep all involved happy. That this would prevent taking it out of Genma's hide when they eventually surpassed him, down the line, didn't even come into it. Nope, not at all.

o-o-o

Ranma frowned as she let the batter sizzle on the griddle. Although the trail appeared fairly well-travelled, (the girl rolling her eyes at the large sign that read 'Super Secret Kunoichi Hiding Place - '), she'd only encountered a single customer in two hours. And he'd been lost. She was cooking the modern 'yaki before her, more from boredom than hunger. If there was anything worthwhile to be learned at the ground, she imagined Ukyo would let her know. If so, she'd just have to return when she could finally get her hands on a second dragon's whisker. Sacrifices in the name of the art were all well and good, but Ranma was somewhat vainly attached to her hair, and she preferred to keep it attached to herself. Humming, she nonchalantly plucked a fallen leaf from her gi.

The little redhead was listlessly flipping the grilled dish when she screeched, thumbs, index and pinkie fingers extended as a figure melted form the forest to appear directly before the cart. Taking in the figure's garb and entrance, Ranma adopted a defensive stance (grudgingly conceding to herself that she was lucky that she was wearing a sports bra). She faced off against a ninja who… slobbered unashamedly at the sight of the steaming 'yaki on the grill. A second look showed Ranma an almost emaciated looking girl donned in hand-me-down suit, with various white patches sewn where the dark red material had worn away threw age and wear. Despite her current gender, Ranma had enough teenage boy left in her to note that despite the girl's undignified and malnourished appearance, she was very attractive. More so even, than Ranma herself, she adjudged, stabbing down an unsettling surge of jealousy.

Seeing as her company had yet to shift her gaze from the pancake, and quickly assessing the unlikelihood of the girl having the capacity to pay, Ranma asked rather lamely, "Uh, you hungry?"

No response. Ranma sweat, as the ninja-girl continued to drool. "Er, you can have that if you wan-"

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" she gasped swallowing the meal in a single gulp. Shaking her head as if waking from a trance, the girl swiftly prostrated herself before the yatai. "Thank you for your kindness, miss," she blubbered gratefully, "I am indebted to you."

"No, no, no, its free!" Ranma waved her hands frantically. With her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if… "Er, say, does your clan by any chance have a rule demanding the death of any outsider who sells you any cabbage-based snacks on Fridays?"

"Free?" repeated the tall girl in awe, not hearing the question. "Really?" she exclaimed, and Ranma blinked as a blur quickly began stripping the yatai of all its foodstuffs.

"Hey! Wait a minute, I meant that one okonomiyaki, not _everything!_" The ninja flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!" she apologised.

"Then why are you _still _eating?"

o-o-o

"So Pop, you never did tell us how you heard about this place," prompted Ukyo as he kept pace with the older man. Genma frowned. He had never been to this training ground before, but it was listed as a 'hotspot' in a certain demon's training manual that the bulky man had come into possession of a few years back.

The part-time panda 'hmphed', playing the all-knowing sensei card for the moment.

"Experience, my boy. It all comes down to that. You have to know which grounds will yield the greatest benefit and selectively tour those with single-minded vigour."

"Such as Jusenkyo?" the lad asked dryly.

"Even the best of us is entitled to an odd blip," proclaimed Genma casually, as he splashed into a small puddle. _And I don't see why you complain. You've added strength and stamina in your current state, boy._

"So do you, Pop," he countered, "and yet you haven't been exactly jumping for joy at being a panda."

_Alright, mistakes were made_, conceded the sign lazily. _But I've a good feeling about this place_, announced Genma as their destination loomed before them. The pair came to a stop and took in the building. Favouring the panda with a glare cold enough to freeze Bill Gate's liquid assets, Ukyo read the large heart-shaped sign aloud,

" 'Men's Training Ground: Sexy Kunoichi Teashop'… Huh." Genma chuckled nervously. "Good feeling about this place, have you?" asked the chef in a calm tone. Male, he may have presently been, but there was no question as to where his sensibilities lay in regards to… this.

Hoping to salvage some modicum of respect from his pupil, Genma suggested that the external appearance was simply a ruse to mislead all but the most determined of martial artists. He dumped a kettle on himself, declining to offer his companion any hot water. Ukyo's glare hardened as he very reluctantly followed Genma inside the building, expecting the worst.

Sometimes, even the worst expectations are optimistic.

A girlishly screaming figure, followed frantically by Ukyo, fled from three…beings, straight through a pair of walls and back into the comforting embrace of the forest.

o-o-o

"Listen, its alright," explained the redhead, wearily. The seemingly weak-willed girl, was strangely resolute in her assertion that she owed Ranma greatly.

"But I must pay you back for you generosity," insisted the kunouchi. She was still bowing before the yatai.

"Geez, you don't have to do that," she complained exasperatedly. "Stand up, er... I didn't get your name." The ninja stood with beaming face.

"I am Kunoichi, Konatsu Kenzan. Shinobi indebted to Miss…," she trailed off suggestively.

"Oh," blinked the shorter of the two. "Ranma," she supplied.

"Ranma-sama," breathed the ninja girl in adoration, as Ranma gulped worriedly. The girl was levelling her with a worshipful gaze that was pumping butterflies into her stomach.

"N-now listen, here," she spluttered. "I um, already got ah…That is to say, that I'm already… I mean, er…" Ranma blushed furiously. "Just… D-don't be gettin' no ideas." She looked up to see that she'd lost her companion's attention. Konatsu's hand was on her weapon, her head tilted to the side. The kunoichi made a silent hushing gesture and whispered.

"Five people are running through the woods in this direction." She turned an intent gaze to the young Saotome. "Don't worry, Ranma-sama," she assured her. "I'll make sure nothing happens to - oof!"

The girl's promise was cut short by the intervention of an airborne foot. The rest of Ukyo followed, incidentally driving Konatsu back to the ground.

"Hey, what the,"

"No time!" wheezed Ukyo, unceremoniously throwing the unresisting redhead over his shoulder. "They're coming!" Ranma blinked as her fiancé's terror-filled shudder sent shivers through both of them.

"What about the girl?" screamed Ranma through the din of their escape, and Ukyo's flailing braid..

"What girl do mean, boy?" questioned Genma, furiously dragging the yatai alongside the pair. Ranma glanced back at the trail and saw no signs of Konatsu.

"But she was… Weird…"

o-o-o

Konatsu was ready to covertly pursue her mistress' captors when she was abruptly smacked over her prone skull. Groaning at the familiar pain, she fell to her knees, lest the following hit be harder. She sighed as she was thumped a second time, her compliant figure, falling to the earth. She soon rose to face the three grotesqueries that were her step-family.

"Konatsu!" growled her gremlin-like step-mother. "Those two fiends destroyed our tea shop and insulted our comeliness by running away from us."

"Imagine questioning our loveliness!" proclaimed the morbidly obese Koume, through her insanely gargantuan lips. Her bald head had gone red with enmity.

"Oh, I couldn't conceive it," declared Konatsu in dubiously faux honesty. Her bony sister Koede whacked her, and shrieked,

"Are you jealous of our beauty?"

"Your beauty? Absolutely not!" the kunoichi answered genuinely.

After the three pummelled her docile form, Kotet yelled,

"Get those people who did this to the shop and us! Do you hear me?" Konatsu shined as she realised she had a excuse to rescue Ranma that her family condoned. "And don't think even think about coming home before you do!" Little chance of that, she smirked.

"Alright, step-mother!" she announced heartily. "I'll go after them this very sec -"

"But first!" intervened Koume. "Get back to the house and wash the dishes!"

"And scrub the floor!"

"And do the laundry!"

"And clean the -"

Conditioned reflexes kicking in, Konatsu smiled agreeably as she dutifully went about her tasks.

"Right away, sister! Busy, busy, busy!"

o-o-o

"Could you please put me down now?" grumbled Ranma as they entered the city proper. Instead of answering, her fiancé turned to her panting father and asked if he felt sure that they had lost them. Huffing more from fear than exertion, Genma shot a glance over his shoulder and carefully examined his surroundings. Things were looking up for the scheming Saotome. They had killed two birds with one stone, reaching their destination, while escaping from the three windigoes.

He allowed himself a smile. They had finally made it back to Tokyo. Gradually signalling Ukyo to a halt, Genma surveyed the expansive metropolis that sprawled out ahead of him. He took a moment to sample the air of his birthplace. After choking on the exhaust of a passing minivan, he laughed.

"Boys! We're home!" After all these years, his plans would take their most important step on their way to fruition.

"You know I was born in Osaka!" complained the chef. "Right, Ranchan?"

"Could you put me down, please?"

"Details," waved off Genma. "You're a Tokyoite from this day forth, and that's what's important." He began to contemplate. His old plan to pair up Ukyo with that Hibiki boy had taken a gut punch at Jusenkyo. The lost lad had behaved in an increasingly disturbing manner towards his own son from that point on. He didn't even want speculate on the potential outcomes of such a situation. Genma hoped that they wouldn't encounter Ryoga again in the foreseeable future, especially with his son currently donning that treacherous soap. Not that he doubted his son's honour in that scenario, but it would truly be best for all concerned if Ranma never even had to consider such a predicament. He glimpsed askance at the pouting redhead laid across the strong shoulder of her very male fiancé. _Definitely_ for the best.

If nothing else good, with his son's curse had arisen evidence that little Ukyo seemed quite taken with Ranma, or rather his girl side. He felt it couldn't be coincidence that the levels of affection displayed between the two had increased so dramatically since Jusenkyo. With Ranma alone cursed, this would have presented him with a very difficult conundrum. If however, as he suspected, Ukyo's tastes ran in the 'alternative' category, then young chef's gender curse granted him a perfect avenue of recourse. Fate had truly been kind.

Genma grinned an alarmingly wide smile. One that would have set warning bells ringing in his students' head if they hadn't been distracted with one another. Imagine, not one - but _two _sons to carry on the Anything-Goes legacy. He turned to the boys, er, kids and spoke, "We've made good time getting here."

"Lemme down already!"

"Hush, Ranchan," drawled the chef, playfully patting his captive on the rear. "Pops is trying to say something."

This was really going to work! Thought Genma joyously. Oh happy day! He kindly withheld from himself the fact that Ranma hadn't complained about the contact. "Pops?" prompted the chef with an arched eyebrow.

"Huh?" blinked Genma, gathering himself. "Oh yes. As I was saying, we got here earlier than I expected," he motioned toward the city's skyline. "And I think, if we make a good pace, we could reach our destination by the evening."

"Where _are _we going , anyway?" questioned the dark-haired boy, absently shifting his grip on Ranma. Moving the acquiescent redhead to his other shoulder, he continued. "You still haven't told us about this engagement that was so important, we had to leave China right away." From beneath a hooded stare, Genma spoke an artfully sinister rejoinder.

"Are you telling me you'd rather be back in Qinghai dealing with that Amazon girl?"

"Good point!" agreed Ukyo nodding vehemently, drowning out Ranma's 'hussy' comment. Still got it, smirked Genma at his expert redirection. "But don't change the subject," smirked the chef. "What's happening where we're going?" Damn. He'd have to work some more on that one. Oh well, he thought grabbing a strangely convenient pail of water. Distraction would have only gotten him so far. He could just outright avoid answering their questions the rest of the way. It would also give him time to think of a way to convince the pair to go through with it. He was certain of his plan's long-term success. All he needed was a way to get his disagreeable charges to initially heed to his wisdom. The now-panda could admit to himself that his argumentative skills weren't his forté. He nodded to himself resolutely, as he decided on his method of persuasion. After all, he thought, reciting one of his late master's training slogans, 'When nothing else will work, blackmail is the only honourable option.'

Ukyo quickly recovered from his discomfiture at his guardian panda-fying himself, entreating, "At least tell us _where_ we're going."

Genma decided to throw the pair a bone. After all, the 'where' wasn't the problem, but the 'what'. He produced a sign displaying the words: _We're headed to the Nerima ward, boy. Keep up._

'Nerima', pondered Ukyo at the unexpected answer, increasing his pace to that of the yatai-bearing panda. Following the swiftly moving Genma into the endless streets, he wondered... Should that name sound familiar?

"Can I come down yet?"

o-o-o

o-o-o o-o-o

o-o-o o-o-o o-o-o

Author's Notes

My apologies to all who were following this story. I realise that not updating in over six months verges on the ridiculous, and I won't bore you with inconsequential personal details to excuse my absence. All I can do to redress this is to resume posting somewhat regularly.

This chapter accomplishes a lot, getting the story moving again. But in parts it feels just a little hollow. Narrative is definitely not my forté, and I often struggle to marry situational humour with solid illustration. When I read fics by Kirinin or Ebiris, featuring such skilfully crafted narratives, that by comparison, make mine seem to have been written by a ten-thumbed monkey, I feel like just going back to the drawing board.

Personally, I enjoy writing conversation. When I scan what I've written, I'm generally satisfied with the dialogue. Not that it couldn't stand a hell of a lot of improvement as it is. Once again, I'm pipped by a **_lot _**of authors (including the above two) in this respect.

But this isn't a competition. Stories aren't rated by their review count although reviews _**are**_ nice ;) . There's room for my self-indulgent lark to squeeze in along with the true paragons of fine fanfiction. And hey, if it elicits a genuine chuckle or two, then its done it's job.

More coming soon.

Ace A


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